Protect and Follow
by MusketeerAdventure
Summary: **COMPLETE** Chapter 30: As Morning Star grudgingly admits failure, his brothers make their way to Mallory. Alex contemplates the future without Noma; while Pete is eager to follow Alex out into the world on a new mission for mankind.
1. Chapter 1

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: This takes place during the episode Heir of Salvation. Alex finds he has an unexpected gift to add to his arsenal as the "chosen one" – Noma fears it; but Pete is the grateful one.

* * *

The escape from the school left Alex drained. Running from and then running down eight balls was exhausting business. He could still feel the thumps of their bodies as they rolled off the hood; fell to the ground; and then succumbed to death under the wheels of the jeep. Their raspy screams echoed in his head, drowning out the sputtering drone of the engine. His arms on the steering wheel felt heavy; his eyes gritty with dirt and his mouth dry from lack of water – the little he had stored in the jeep long gone now.

Alex hunched his shoulders and tried to loosen the muscles in his neck and back. He could still feel the torture of Gabriel all over his body and in his mind; and wished he could rest just for a moment. But that was out of the question. Vega did not have the luxury of a moment – Claire and his child did not have that luxury either.

He shook his head and slapped the side of his face to keep himself awake. For tape - he and Noma had almost died at the hands of a small pack of eight ballers – for a roll of tape. The school had been literately crawling with them – waiting to pounce and tear their flesh apart. But Noma had covered his ass like she always did and by hook or by crook they were able to make it out alive – barely.

He didn't know how long the tape would last; but hopefully it would last long enough to get them to New Delphi. New Delphi was where all his hopes lay. If he could just convince the people there that an alliance with Vega was what mankind needed to defeat Gabriel – then all his months of torture would have been worth it. This was the only way he knew to protect Claire and his child.

If there was one thing he learned, while under the thumb of Gabriel, it was that the angel needed him. He needed the markings – whether he could decipher them for him or not. He would use that to his advantage and lure the angel out – just long enough to kill him. Without Gabriel, the higher angels and the eight balls would give up the fight – they just had to.

Using his obsession against him was the way to go. Gabriel's relentless – bloody pursuit of bringing his Father back through the destruction of the human race would be his downfall.

Alex rubbed the back of his neck and tried to massage away lingering pain that radiated at the base of his skull; and down into his shoulders. He was tired and hungry, but the sense of urgency to get to New Delphi permeated through every pour in his body. And though he knew Noma must be feeling weary too – he would not stop.

He stole a glance over in her direction and could see that she was worn out – lines of exhaustion etched on her face. But to her credit – she did not complain; and sat perched on the edge of the seat next to him – eyes peeled out the window – on alert for any dangers that may lurk on the road.

He was grateful for her loyalty; and knew going into New Delphi was going against Michael's orders; and her need to protect him. Alex bit his lip, and thought on the archangel who had raised him to the man he was today. Michael – who he loved and resented at the same time. Michael – who was more his father than Jeep ever was. Michael – who had watched out for him his whole life; was gone.

He pressed his hand over his eye lids to try and clear the grit away – but succeeded in only making them sting and tear up. He swiped the tears away and tried not to think of how Michael had lied to him; betrayed him; and left him.

But that was okay. He didn't need Michael. He could do this on his own. He could be the "chosen one" and help forge an army against Gabriel. He would use every skill Michael had taught him; get this done – end this war; and bring about peace.

Then perhaps he could live a life with Claire and his child – and be the father that Jeep couldn't be.

On that thought; the jeep spewed white smoke, slowed down and came to an untimely stop. He hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand and jumped from the vehicle agitated and angry for the delay this would cause – Noma looking to him to fix it.

As soon as he looked under the hood, he knew – the jeep was going no further – and then unexpectedly his feet were pulled out from under him; and he landed flat on his back with an eight ball crawling on top of him; screaming in his face.

It took him only seconds to recover from the attack; having been trained day in and day out by the best to combat such tactics. He could hear Michael in his ear now – yelling for him to "think fast; and quickly get the upper hand."

So, Alex put a move on the creature that Michael taught him years ago – pressed his legs about his neck and held on tight. The eight ball was slight; a boy really – most of his strength coming from the reserves of being possessed by a lower angel. So he held on to him about the head and neck and let him buck and thrash in his arms.

And then something came over him, the incantation of eviction released from the recesses of his memory and fell from his lips measured; unhurried - much easier than before – and the markings moved about his arm on their own accord – flowing energy down into the baller's body – causing him to quit his onslaught; relax and fall unconscious.

Noma stood over them, transfixed; in awe and frightened at the same time – looking down on him uncertain as to what was happening. Well, he didn't understand it either – this burning flow of life pouring out of him into this eight ball – a possessed human – who moments before was ready to kill him.

Now that he was lax, he untangled their limbs; pushed away and scurried to his feet. He leaned over with his hands on his knees; and pulled in much needed air. Noma glanced his way – her eyes wide and mouth slightly open in amazement. For a moment he thought she was afraid of him. He couldn't blame her – he was afraid of himself.

He looked down at the boy and sighed. "They always die afterward", he told her. Alex shook his head and scanned the sky. The Book of Apocrypha never explained what was next – how to return the hosts to who they were. He looked back down at the body – what was the point of the eviction if they died?

He studied the boy's face – young; barely out of adolescents- peaceful now – whereas before, there was only blue tinged skin; black eyed rage and on his lips the eight ball mantra – "kill all humans".

Noma touched his neck and felt for a life pulse, "He's dead alright", she confirmed – but looked to him incredulous, "In the world of eight balls, you just became the most dangerous man alive."

Alex chuckled at her words. Yes – eviction meant death to the eight balls; but to him it was a hollow gift to have. It meant death to the host instead of rebirth.

So they gathered their weapons and walked away – left the host where he lay; and headed on to New Delphi – determined to bargain as the "chosen one"; align them with Vega and bring down Gabriel.

* * *

Noma stared hard at Alex and could not believe what she had just witnessed – a lower angel evicted from a human host. What power was this?

That Alex was the "chosen one" – that he wore the markings on his body that would one day bring peace to this earth – was one thing. But this casting out of possessed humans was another thing altogether. This was the hallmark of a miracle. But when she reached down to check for life signs of the previous eight ball, and now human – the boy was dead.

But still – this made Alex a very dangerous man. This gift he learned from the Book of Apocrypha – to drive the angel possession out was an advantage. The ability to take Gabriel's army away from him was huge.

The need to contact Michael was strong in her; as was her duty to protect Alex. This information – Michael would want to know. If he knew – maybe he would come back. But that's not what Alex wanted – she knew that. He had not wanted her to contact Michael for help earlier – but this news was perhaps a game changer in the fight against Gabriel.

She didn't understand the dynamic between Michael and Alex; and was not privy to what had transpired between them that now kept them apart. She only knew that they stood a better chance in this war if they all stuck together- fought side by side; and worked as a team.

Alex was well trained; trained well beyond their shared duties as part of the archangel corps – she could see that. His mind worked quickly and he had no give up in him. But he was impulsive; and in love. These two things could eventually become a hindrance if not tempered.

But as she had witnessed this miracle; she had also been witness to his strength of will. They had spent months imprisoned in the aerie with Gabriel and his minions - months, where they had been deprived of such basic necessities as consistent food; water; and rest. She watched them torture Alex day in and day out; wearing his body down – in the hopes he would break and read the markings imprinted on his skin. But that moment never came.

Even she could tell that Alex could not read them; let alone interpret them. But somehow he could wield their power. Alex was indeed strong; and now she could see, even stronger than she had imagined. To have kept this talent away from Gabriel after such torture was impressive.

What more gifts did the markings hold? When and how soon would they reveal themselves to Alex?

The "chosen one" was indeed a formidable ally and perhaps a fearsome enemy – one Vega and New Delphi could rally behind.

Noma resolved anew to protect Alex with her life; and together they left the miracle behind and headed on their way to New Delphi.

* * *

Peter woke up, and came back to his life with a strange sensation. The all-consuming; burning, tingling, feverish awareness – swept through his brain; pierced his heart and spread down his limbs. Everything hurt like hell.

As he breathed in the hot, humid air – it choked his lungs and caught in his throat – making him cough and expel dredged up bile and meat. Tears welled up in his eyes and flowed freely down his cheeks. He wheezed out tepid air and swiped at the tears on his face; trying to get a handle on his breathing.

When he looked up from his position on the ground, all he could make out was a blue cloudless sky and the tips of swaying limbs of large trees. He sat up slowly – coughing; spitting the foulness from his mouth – and grabbing at the pain in his chest.

Right in front of him, sat a vehicle; and miles of nothing – but undergrowth; dirt and trees. What was he doing out here? Where was he?

The last he remembered – he was sitting in Wendy's eating the bacon cheeseburger meal – wondering how long he should put up with his crap job; and his even crappier boss – who treated him like dirt, and hated him.

Peter gathered himself and stood carefully to his feet; and instantly felt a rush of heat explode through his body – blood ran from his head down to his toes; his legs buckled and he fell hard, back down in the dirt – trying to compose himself; and not lose his mind.

He put his face in his hands and took a deep breath. What he needed to do was to stand up; get the hell out of here; and find a way to get help as soon as possible and make it home. He lifted his face from his hands scanned his surroundings; and decided to start with the jeep right in front of him.

He took another stab at getting to his feet; and this time locked his knees to keep from falling over. He brushed dirt from his hands onto his shirt and took a look under the hood of the abandoned vehicle in front of him. Right away he could see – there was nothing to be done to fix it. He knew cars – and the white hot smoke that hissed out at him was a clue that the radiator was shot.

Someone had just left this behind. Who were they, and where could they be? He staggered over to the passenger door and then searched the jeep for food – water – anything that would help him on his journey. There was nothing here.

Peter was just about to sit down and weep with frustration when he suddenly felt buzzing – tingling warmth engulf him; and just like that he knew which way to go. He would follow that warmth east. The pull was strong; and he could feel it was the right thing to do.

So he put his tears aside and headed east.

* * *

For hours Pete walked in the searing heat; the dust and dirt rising up to clog his throat and sting his eyes – but he kept going, undaunted; sure he was going in the right direction.

And there up ahead, was his destination – rushing toward him with a weapon aimed at him ready to kill him for sure. But the man running toward him, yelling at him to get on his knees and put his hands up, was so full of wonderful light – he could see it.

As he got closer he could feel the warmth of him, reach out and envelope his body and mind. There was such peace emanating from him – surely he wouldn't kill him. He looked up from his knees and peered up at the fierce young man and woman bearing down on him. This was who he followed to the east. This was the person who was going to help him get home.

"He's alive!" they yelled at him, and he was confused. Of course he was alive; and he wanted to get home.

Then the man was yelling at him; and demanded to know who he was – what did he remember – but all he could see was the aura of light – everything else he said meant nothing to him. His talk of war; angels; eight balls; death and resurrection – all went over his head until the woman said she meant to leave him out here.

But he knew this man of light would not leave him here alone; unarmed and unprotected in this wilderness. The man lowered his weapon – looked down at him; told him that he was "lucky"; and pulled him to his feet.

When the man placed his arm around his shoulders – he felt protected; loved – safe. Pete felt totally confused and disorientated. Everything around him was a puzzle – but not this man. As he guided him away and they walked side by side to their destination – this New Delphi – he knew he would follow this man anywhere.

The warmth of him buoyed his spirits; and made him feel capable of anything. He was tired; hungry; thirsty and afraid – but this one would be his savior and maybe get him home.

* * *

Noma watched mystified as Alex and Pete seemed to have bonded almost instantaneously. As they walked over the rise; with Alex's arm around Pete's shoulders in a protective stance – she suddenly felt frightened.

What was Pete really? Would he revert back to an eight ball before their eyes? Was he successfully free from the possession? Or was this a trick of some sort – a skill of the lower angels she wasn't aware of?

What was she to make of this?

It was her job to protect Alex – even from himself.

So she unfurled her wings; spread them out to the heavens and called out to Michael – hoping he would hear her and come.

* * *

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this. Please review and let me know what you think. I watched the first three episodes of season two of Dominion and was hooked. I'm not sure if I have the characters down exactly, so would like to hear how you think I did with this.


	2. Chapter 2

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: This takes place during the episode Heir of Salvation. Alex finds he has an unexpected gift to add to his arsenal as the "chosen one" – Noma fears it; Pete is the grateful one; and Michael searches for his faith.

* * *

I hope you enjoy the hidden moments and thoughts of the characters inside this episode!

Reviews are welcomed!

Chapter Two: Realizations

Michael stood in the small church and decided that here he would wait; here in Mallory, where the residents felt and heard his Father speak. Not only did God speak to them; but he loved them and held them in good stead - all of which he had lost and hoped to regain.

Standing here now- alone - in this house of worship, felt completely strange and foreign to him. How long had it been since he had even stepped foot in a church such as this? Definitely before the war – perhaps even before then.

He breathed in the essence of the place and closed his eyes – attempting to restore some sense of peace to his soul; a soul that had been ravaged – torn asunder with doubt – betrayal and self-loathing. He looked deep within himself; and found that his soul was indeed a battered thing. Was it beyond repair? Was redemption out of reach for him?

Michael opened his eyes and looked among the extremely rare artifacts of faith collected here at this altar and thought of their religious significance; and how such things not only brought humans together, but also tore them apart. He reached out and touched the statue of the chosen one; and wondered about Alex. Where was he – how did he fare – for in his heart, he knew he lived? If death had been his fate, Noma would have let him know – or he would have felt it himself as their connection was deep and strong. Despite his anger and Alex's disappointment in him; he would know.

He rubbed the statue; sighed and tried to get a handle on his emotions. Where had this all-consuming anger he felt bubbling inside him stem from? Was it really due to his Father's absence; Becca's betrayal; Alex's reluctance to trust him; or his own self-doubts? Did he feel this way because his siblings would not join him; and see things the way he saw it?

He frowned and felt his body relax in anticipation – no it wasn't anger he felt now. Right at this moment, with his anger dissipated; he began to feel an inclining of hope. Hope that his Father still loved mankind; and through them – still loved him. "Father", he whispered reverently – hoping against hope he would hear a response – feel God's presence – sense his love – as he had before His disappearance.

Michael dropped his hands from the statue and considered them closely.

How had Laurel described their faith? One of song, service and sacrifice – such that it opened God's heart to them and allowed them to hear him speak. From hundreds of miles away – he had been lured here by their voices; their words lifted up in songs of devotion – songs that had gripped his heart and had him reflecting on his Father's goodness and mercy.

How was it possible that they could hear God as clearly as he had heard them sing? Father had been gone for such a long time now. All of his own attempts to communicate were left unheard – unnoticed; or ignored.

Michael moved toward the window of the church, and could see the eternal flame of Mallory engulf the reaching figure in the midst of the bon fire; arms lifted in adoration to the heavens. If the flame remained – then God remained. Michael bowed his head to listen, but he could hear nothing. Why had his Father continued to stay away – keep him at bay; unwilling to touch his heart?

What was he doing wrong? Had he not devoted centuries to protecting mankind; his most precious creations? Had he not looked after Alex – the chosen one – and cared for him as best he knew how?

Laurel talked to him of sacrifice. Was it that he had not sacrificed enough? He looked again to the artifacts before him with a questioning glance. Sacrifice? Was that what he lacked?

He knew he lacked the courage to sacrifice himself as Christ had sacrificed – to give his life willingly for the sake of others. Was this what he was meant to overcome; his fear of humility? He looked inside himself for the answer; but couldn't find it.

For months, before finding his way here, he had wandered the earth – moving from one desolate place to another – his faith dwindling; hope diminishing to almost nothing. He had failed Alex, himself and God; and had thought the rest of his days would be spent in a sort of limbo – waiting for this world to crash down around him and finally succumb to Gabriel and his followers.

But now – this place – Mallory, Alabama; was showing him something different.

Laurel had complete and utter faith that God spoke to her; loved her and protected this community from the eight balls – and all other manner of disaster. He stood perfectly still; placed his hands behind his back; and strained to feel His all protecting grace.

Suddenly, a cry of urgency penetrated his thoughts. This pure note of cadence was from Noma – she was sending him a message. Michael lifted his head and listened to her fear of and for Alex. He had performed a miracle – evicted a lower angel from an eight ball – who had survived and now was returned to his humanity.

Michael listened to her call in amazement; but did not respond. He thought on the implications of this; and looked to the heavens. Perhaps God was speaking to him after all – just in a way he was not accustomed to.

Alex – able to evict an angel – Mallory protected here in the middle of nowhere, within the bowels of unspeakable danger. Michael looked up at the cross above the altar. He would stay here for a while – a brief moment in time for him; and learn to hear God's voice in a new way. Perhaps Laurel could teach him this.

Then maybe he could approach Alex – who hopefully would accept his help; and let him fight alongside him once again.

* * *

Alex lifted his head; and searched the cloudless sky. Soon night would be falling; and making it to New Delphi before dark seemed almost impossible. Pete stumbled along – tired, hungry, and confused; Noma followed; but seemed anxious about this whole idea.

But Alex would not be deterred. This was the only way – he was sure of it.

He held his weapon at the ready for any sign of trouble and noticed Noma did the same. Together, they were a fine tuned instrument; ready to do battle at a moment's notice. They could travel like this for hours more, without food; water or rest – and had done so many times in the past.

However, Pete was another story. The boy was tripping over his own feet and barely walking in a straight line. If they were all to make it – they needed to rest; eat and find water. He would not leave Pete or jeopardize his safety in any way.

Pete was his responsibility now. He had brought back the boy's humanity and now it was up to him to keep him safe and nurture him. Pete thought himself an experiment; but he was more than that – he was a game changer – he was perhaps the way to peace on earth.

Pete stumbled again – this time tripping over a root and falling to his knees; breathing hard. Finally, Alex called a halt, "We'll rest here for a while", he said – helping Pete to his feet and walking him over to sit next to a downed tree truck; and leaned his back to its bark.

"Thank you", Pete breathed out smiling; rubbing at his bruised knees and shins – his eyes red with exhaustion and lips chapped with thirst.

Noma shook her head in disbelief, "No Alex! We must keep moving. If we want to reach New Delphi before dark, we can't stop." She threw Pete a disdainful look; unsure what she felt about him and what he represented.

"Pete needs to rest", he countered, "and I won't leave him behind." The stare down between them was briefly intense.

Noma looked at Pete with exasperation – shrugged her shoulders and gave in. There was no talking Alex out of something once his mind was made up. Alex sat down next to Pete – clapped him on the knee and felt suddenly weary himself.

Noma stared at the two men before her and made a decision – "I'll go find something for us to eat and some water", she offered.

Alex threw his empty water canteen to her; which she plucked deftly from the air. "Thank you Noma", he said, smiling slightly at her – relived their standoff had ended without an argument. Noma smiled back – unable to resist his latent charm and innate goodness. She shook her head despairingly over this weakness, and took off further into the woods.

When Alex looked beside him, Pete was already asleep – his head back, resting on the downed log – his body lax and at rest. His thoughts drifted back to just mere hours before – when this boy with serrated teeth, and blue veined skin had attacked and tried to kill him.

He looked down at the markings on his arm and tried to comprehend it. He touched the circle and line – concentrated hard and wished he could remember what word; what thought– what motion activated its movement. For certain, it was the markings which had cured Pete – not he.

Alex stood and began to gather kindling for a fire. It was a risk to have one, but if Noma was able to find food- it needed to be cooked. They had to eat.

He left Pete's side, and picked up stick after stick and his thoughts turned to Michael. Where was he now? Was he even alive? He had stopped Noma from contacting him earlier – had that been a mistake?

Despite their differences he still felt something for the archangel – the angel who had taught him a sense of duty; loyalty; and to fight for humanity at all costs. These lessons could not be easily dismissed. Michael's tutelage and guidance was all he had ever known. He knew – no matter how angry and betrayed he felt – he would never fully disown his feelings for him.

Looking back toward Pete, he saw the boy twitch in his sleep; his eyes rolling beneath closed lids and his mouth pressed in a tight line. He wondered what Pete would dream about. In sleep, would he dream of his life before being possessed; or would he dream the horrors of being an eight ball?

He moved closer to the distressed young man; and placed the kindling down – using two sticks to set about making a small fire. As the flames took hold – curled smoke and crackled – Pete sat straight up; and screamed.

Noma entered their circle; frowned and could not believe what she was seeing -first a fire – to give away their position; and then Pete screaming at the top of his lungs. She shook her head and dropped the dead snake and water canteen to the ground.

Any minute they would be set upon; either by eight balls or roving human bandits who killed just as indiscriminately – there was no getting around it. They would be dead before they could even reach their destination.

Alex ran to Pete's side and covered his mouth with his hand – held down his shoulders; and soothed in his ear, "Wake up. You're safe Pete. Wake up."

Pete slowly and with effort pulled his eyes open; blinking in half beats – and felt the man's hand over his mouth and frowned with consternation. He made eye contact and nodded his head vigorously taking in a breath through his nose to still the sense of horror trying to come up through his throat.

Alex removed his hand slowly and gripped Pete's shoulder, "You okay?" he asked, before removing his hand totally away.

Pete nodded again, and rubbed his face and eyes. He remembered now. He looked over to the woman's disapproving face and groaned. They were on a journey. This man had saved him, and they were on their way to a place called New Delphi. Pete shivered and hugged himself tight.

Noma watched him closely and threw the snake near the fire and launched the water canteen at Alex who caught it securely.

"Seriously – a fire?" she queried with her eyebrows raised up to her hairline. Noma sat on her haunches and pulled out her knife.

"I know", Alex countered, "But we need to eat." He passed the water to Pete and watched as he took a healthy swig and wiped his mouth with relief.

"We can eat snake raw", she insisted – and sneered as both Alex and Pete shook their heads in the negative – mouths frowning in distaste. She laughed at them both; and began the task of skinning the snake.

Pete looked between them and understood that he was the liability. However, he would not lie – he was glad they had stopped. With rest and food, he knew he could then keep going.

As the snake cooked and spit juices in the flames – Pete watched his two companions and could not keep his curiosity in check any longer.

Staring at them both, he asked, "Who are you exactly?"

Alex sighed deeply and realized that he had not even told Pete his name. That he had followed them with such faith was incredulous. "Alex – and this is my partner Noma. We are soldiers from Vega", Alex introduced – pointing first to himself and then to Noma.

Pete searched the recesses of his memory, "Vega?"

Alex nodded, "It's too much to explain. Just know that we are on our way to New Delphi to ask for help and to gather an army to fight back the archangel Gabriel."

"Angels? Eight Balls? And I was an eight ball?" Pete paused in thought in order to gather enough courage to ask, "What is that?"

Noma looked him hard in the eyes, "A lower angel, who possesses humans in order to fight with Gabriel to take over this earth. Alex here evicted your angel and now you are back to being you again."

Pete was at a loss, and understood none of it. Only that whatever Alex had done, he was grateful. Noma cut off a piece of the cooked snake and handed it to him. He ate ravenously and heard Alex and Noma chuckle, but didn't care. His stomach continued to rumble as he swallowed each delicious piece; positive he had never tasted anything so good in his life.

As the three ate in companionable silence; Alex took the opportunity to assuage his own curiosity, "Just before, when you dreamed – what was it about?"

Pete sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I don't remember the dream, only that I felt invaded; unclean somehow." He shuddered and Alex squeezed his arm. "Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to you" he promised.

Pete looked at Alex perplexed. Though he felt safe with Alex and Noma – he knew that was a promise no one could keep. "I see a light in you Alex; and know that you will try your best. But you don't need to promise me anything – I'm just glad to be alive."

Alex thought then to ask Pete about his life before; but decided against it. That life – before being possessed was over – gone for some time he expected; no longer relevant. There was no point in bringing it up. Pete would have to start all over again; and he would be here to help him.

When they finished eating; and put out their fire; the three got to their feet and continued on through the woods to their destination – rested and feeling the better for it.

The sun had set; and now darkness cloaked them, with only the moon and stars above to help guide the way – providing hidden shadows among the trees for the silent group of assailants who took stock; waited and were ready to attack.

* * *

Thank you for reading. Please review and let me know what you think. I hope you liked the hidden moments within the episode.


	3. Chapter 3

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: This takes place during the episode Heir of Salvation. Alex finds he has an unexpected gift to add to his arsenal as the "chosen one" – Noma fears it; Pete is the grateful one; Michael searches for his faith in Mallory– while the journey to New Delphi is fraught with unexpected revelations.

* * *

Thank you so much for reading! Please review; as

reading your comments make me smile!

Chapter Three: A Question of Faith

The horn sounded – black rolling clouds filled the night sky; and Mallory erupted into controlled chaos.

Wes and his threats forgotten – Michael hurried from the church to witness frightened, screaming children dodge heavy rain drops; as frantic parents rushed them to an underground shelter.

Looking toward the edge of town – he could see eight-balls hopping the perimeter wall; climbing over fences – waiting for the rain to fall strong enough to extinguish the fire. Assigned residents worked double time – throwing wood on the dwindling flames – fighting the rain; to keep the blaze from snuffing out. They yelled encouragement to each other; and sent up prayer that the rain would not last long.

Over the prayers, Michael could hear the eight-ball's mantra- in that hissing rasping tone, to "kill all the humans", clear and unwavering. He squinted at the statue in the middle of town. Where before she reached outstretched arms to heaven within the midst of the fire's warmth and love; now she reached to heaven in prayer and faith – faith that the flames would engulf her once again in devotion; and Mallory would survive the onslaught. For if the fire went out; the eight-balls would come.

Michael looked around and took stock of the people here. They appeared strong; loyal and committed – traits he had lost over time. For months he had not defended a single human being – either with action; word or his sword – and he wasn't sure what he should do now. His faith in God and himself were lost somewhere in the folds of his self-pity; and grief over losing Alex's confidence and God's favor.

He scanned the faces of these people waiting with whatever weapon they could get their hands on. Some of them held guns; some tools and some held nothing but their trust in God – ready to fight – knowing that God was on their side. How could they be so sure?

He had not seen such blind faith in a very long time. Michael raised his eyes to the sky and the heavens opened up – the heavy drops of rain, now a downpour – soaking them all through to the bone; dousing the fire to a trickle; raising everyone's level of alertness.

The eight-balls gained courage after such a long wait and moved in – with the intent to please Gabriel and kill them all.

Michael touched the swords at his sides; and caressed them with care. These weapons of destruction were gifts from his brother – given to him centuries ago; gifts he would never part with. At the time, they were given to him with sentiments of love and affection.

No matter if he warred against his brother and his beliefs now – he would never relinquish them. They spoke to him of a time when all was certain – his purpose was certain; and Father loved them all.

He bowed his head to think – the cool rain giving him some clarity. Was this a test? Was this his Father speaking to him now – asking him to make a choice; destruction of the human race or salvation – Gabriel or Him; the chosen one or hell on earth?

He looked to Laurel standing beside him; and she pierced him with a fierce determined gaze – her weapon brandished; ready to kill or be killed for Mallory in God's name. He lifted his gaze from hers and saw the same expression on each and every face around him. Every last one of them appeared resolved to their fate – no matter the outcome.

Indecision clashed inside him; and over the pounding rain he could hear Laurel yell to him, "Either stand with us or get out of the way!"

The fire went out – the eight-balls stormed the meager defenses and Michael made his choice. Salvation it would be.

He drew his swords and immediately lost himself in death and blood. After months of abstention, it felt good to draw his weapons – to draw blood – to behead and grind the eight-balls into the muddy, soggy earth. He moved smoothly in battle without thought. Every stance, every thrust – etched in his muscle memory; centuries of maneuvers embedded in his psyche for any campaign. This was after all his calling – his purpose.

He felt alive again as he hacked his way through Gabriel's undisciplined foot soldiers – the blood of them washing away as soon as it hit his clothes – his face – his hands. The rain was torrential in nature – washing away his sin as soon as it was committed – leaving him free to continue the slaughter with a clear conscience.

He had no sense of how fared Laurel; or the other people of Mallory – as they themselves fought with fear and ferocity – only knowing that his muscles and mind had been awakened once again to his talent – the talent of taking life.

His sin was that he killed without remorse. Killing Becca had stolen what little feeling he had one way or another about the taking of life. Her betrayal and that one act of ending her life out of anger; had broken something in him – that centuries of death had not done – leave him hollow.

Just as suddenly as it began – the downpour ended – the fires of Mallory reignited; and eight-balls began to burn; screeching and writhing in pain – burning to ash in anguish – disappearing as if they had not existed at all.

Michael sheathed his swords and came back to himself – breathing in hard the smells of cleansing renewal that rain brings with it; and death. He walked slowly with purpose back toward the church – ignoring the carnage around him – and Laurel's pointed look of awe and trepidation.

When he opened the doors and stumbled in – the warmth and peace welcomed him, and he called out, "Father. Are you here?" waiting now to hear his voice clearly. Had he understood the test? Had he passed – been restored once again to find grace in His love?

Michael sat heavily in a pew seat; clasped his hands together; and found words of prayer falling easily from his lips. He thought he had forgotten how to pray – but the words came unbidden and he felt his heart open once again to the possibility of regaining his faith.

Laurel entered and sat at his side – her hair plastered to her face and neck; cheeks flushed with exertion; her eyes wary and unsure. She reached for him, covered her hands over his; and joined him with a fervent prayer of thanks of her own.

He studied the grip she held on his clasped hands and did not understand the effect she had on him. After months of numbness – she alone had placed a notion of faith in his heart and mind. He wondered at her strength – of this petite woman who commanded authority, and demanded respect; and who took on the responsibilities of Mallory with grace and dignity. She moved him greatly – and he thought – perhaps there could be something more between them.

And though he sensed fear in her – he could also sense her abiding trust in God. But even with her here beside him; praying with him – he could not hear his Father speak.

* * *

Alex picked his way carefully through the underbrush – the flashlight affixed to his weapon providing them with much needed assistance in the inky darkness.

He, Noma, and Pete had left their encampment a few miles back – feeling much better - the brief stop for food; water and rest – giving them much needed energy to their fast depleting reserves.

Pete walked behind him – following directly in his wake with Noma bringing up the rear – scanning the ground with her own light. As they walked – he tried to impress upon Pete to be as quiet as possible – but his incessant need to understand his predicament – and their mission to New Delphi was hard to quell.

Noma was understandably anxious and her repeated requests for Pete to "shut up" did no good – only serving to have him whisper his queries instead of shout them out. Pete seemed to have no understanding of self-preservation and Alex put it down to youth and not really getting how much danger they were actually in.

So Alex did the best he could and answered each question with as much honesty and succinctness as the situation called for. As he explained the hierarchies of the angels; and the war itself, he could sense the tenseness in Pete's body language and the fear that emanated from him.

All that he shared must be overwhelming; and mind boggling – but Alex could see that Pete was not one to give into despair or fear. Pete had a sort of optimism about him that he wished he could share. Though Pete appeared to have once been a kid weighed down by life in general – he could also see the guy had a sense of humor that must have carried him through hard times.

He would need that now – humor that perhaps could cut through the horror he had lived as an eight-ball; and would see from this point on. He had never been to New Delphi – only heard stories; and did not know what to expect. He only knew that they had an army and a shared dislike of Gabriel – and could help Vega in this fight.

He looked again to Pete and promised himself twice over that he would do whatever he could to protect him.

As they continued to make their way; his mind fell on Michael again – and suddenly he understood the burden of watching out for another person. Not only did he now have to think of Claire; his unborn child; and Noma – now he had to consider Pete and by extension the rest of humanity.

He had not thought this way before – always looking at these markings and the title of "chosen one" as a burden – one he did not fully comprehend; and had wanted no part of.

But now he was getting a sense of it; and wished he and Michael had not parted on such harsh terms. The angel had tried to tell him – tried to pound it into him – that mankind was worth saving; and that he was the answer to everyone's salvation.

When he looked back at Pete; their eyes met and in that gaze was such trust. The boy had said to him earlier that he saw a light when he looked at him. What had he meant by that? Did he mean it literally or figuratively? Did he see that light now? He would try his best not to disappoint.

After a while – Pete became quite and pensive – thinking of all he had learned this fateful day. Alex sighed with relief that the stream of questions had ended and that now there was relative quiet.

"About time you stopped talking", blurted out Noma – slapping Pete on the back of his head playfully. Pete shrugged his shoulders and smiled – putting his finger to his lips, telling her to "shush" as she drew back her hand to hit him again.

"Keep your eyes open", Alex called to them over his shoulder. "We're getting close to New Delphi."

And then there – bathed in the harsh glow of their flashlights was the remains of a higher angel – tied to a tree with its skeletal head removed from its body – placed at the base – and its wings spread out filling the space of the trunk.

Noma stared up aghast – her heart beating fast and furious; fear cold in her veins. "That's a higher angel Alex", she whispered. "We are hard to kill."

The three stood mesmerized, unable to tear their eyes away.

Alex studied the body and thought – what people; person; or being possessed such power to bring down a higher angel this way? What weapon could do this? Would it work on Gabriel? Could it harm Noma as well? Whatever did this, was it the answer he was looking for?

Noma was incredulous. Who would do this terrible thing? Why this? What message was this act sending – hanging the carcass of an angel out here in the woods? What manner of weapon did New Delphi possesses to do this? What kind of being cold be so malicious?

Pete was stunned; no words came – but he knew this was not good. No person – no angel – no anybody strung up like this with its head chopped off, meant anything good at all. He looked to Alex and Noma and saw the same look of horror and uncertainty that must be plastered on his face as well. A warning bell went off inside his brain. They had to get away from here!

Then suddenly they were surrounded by a ring of light. Alex raised his weapon; turned to the others and before he could urge them to run – electrical nets covered them; knocking them to the ground – zapping them as they squirmed and moved to get away.

Alex got off a shot; and killed one of the eight-balls moving toward them – another took his place and with a menacing glare, smashed the butt of his weapon at his temple. The last thing he heard before falling into unconsciousness was Pete screaming his name.

* * *

When Laurel lifted her head from prayer – she searched Michael's face as if looking for something hidden. The scrutiny of her gaze made him feel uncomfortable – as if he were lacking in something and he turned away from her.

Only his brother had the ability – she seemed to possess – to make him turn away first.

He feared he had not passed the test after all. Perhaps it would take more than just choosing the side of salvation to win back God's favor.

Laurel stood to her feet – her affect never wavering from acceptance and touched the side of his neck, "Will you help us bury the dead Michael; and send them on to heaven with prayer?"

He blinked – suddenly aware that he had thought nothing of these people – their grief; or heartache over losing their own during the brief battle. His only care had been for the complete and utter destruction of the eight-balls – and nothing more.

Michael sighed deeply at this revelation. Of course he did not pass the test. How was he to help Alex save humanity if he could not even share in their sorrows or even understand their sacrifices – or comprehend the miracle of the fire?

He stood wearily; nodded his assent and walked with her out into the early morning sunrise, where pink hues lit the sky and pain saturated the air. He could hear weeping as loved ones carried their family away to ready for a funeral ceremony that all of Mallory would attend – sing songs of devotion; say good bye and thank them for their sacrifice.

He knelt down in the mud by a distraught elderly man, who clung to his son in abject grief – with no strength to lift him from the ground. Michael touched his shoulder and squeezed it in sympathy, "I will help if you wish", he offered solemnly.

The man swiped tears and spittle from his face – breathing in a shuddered breath as he cleaned mud from the side of the younger man's face; and kissed his cold forehead. He nodded his head; relinquished his hold and allowed Michael to lift him effortlessly from the ground.

The old man struggled to his feet; then led the way to his home – his heart heavy; but full of faith. Mallory had been saved because of his boy and the town's belief in the power of God's promise.

* * *

Alex woke to the feeling of cool fingers stroking his forehead, and carding through his hair. He opened his eyes; groaned and squeezed them shut as the glare of the morning sun assaulted his senses and caused pain to spike behind his left eye.

When he opened his eyes again – Noma was peering down at him with a worried and relieved expression on her face. She pressed his shoulders down and he could feel the softness of her lap beneath his head.

She touched his temple and asked, "How do you feel?"

He glared at her with his right eye, "Like I got hit with the butt of a gun."

Noma chuckled and breathed out a steadying breath. When they had gone down in nets and the eight-ball hit Alex – she thought they were going to die.

A pretty fair number of humans and eight-balls had encircled them; pointed their weapons down at their inert forms – and unable to spread her wings to attack – was surprised to feel how saddened she was that her life would end here like this.

She had thought she would die in glorious battle at the side of her archangel and the chosen one – winning back earth for the humans – not here like this – in the dirt; unable to defend herself.

But instead of death – they had been given a reprieve; were released from the nets; and weapons confiscated. When she had been set free – she had run straight to Alex; falling to her knees – assessing his injuries – an anger rising up in her. It was her job to protect him – to keep him safe. Just as she was about to unfurl her power – Alex had grabbed her arm; shook his head no and promptly passed out.

It had taken two men to restrain Pete. Seeing Alex hit and now unconscious on the ground released something in him. Once out of his net, he struck out wildly, attempting to hurt these people – these beings – and he got in a few good licks before they pushed him to the ground and held a gun to his head.

Noma called to him, "Pete – stop fighting!" Knowing Alex would want her to protect him for as long as she could, if he couldn't. But Pete kept at it – screaming out – "I'll fight all of you!" , rage on his face and in his voice.

"Will you now?" an eight-ball countered, grabbing him by the collar; pulling him to his feet- flashing his black eyes and smiling down on him.

Pete swung at him; but his punch was blocked; and the eight-ball threw him effortlessly against a tree. Pete could feel the pain radiate down his back and the air leave his lungs – but he would not give up. Alex was the light – the reason he was even alive. He would fight until he could fight no more.

He pushed off from the tree ready to try again – but Noma was their pulling him back – yelling in his ear, "Alex will be alright! Stop this before they hurt you!"

"Yes little one – stop – or I will kill you all right here." He emphasized pointing his gun down at Alex's still body.

With that threat penetrating his rage – Pete had pulled away from Noma's embrace and ran to Alex's side; kneeling in front of him; grabbing onto his shirt and shielding him as best he could.

The humans and eight- balls laughed together smirking down at their find.

Noma gathered her wits; joined them on the ground – and lifted Alex into her arms as they sat to wait.

With Alex now aware – Noma began to help him sit up next to her. He held his head in his hands and swallowed hard to keep from vomiting up snake meat and water. When the earth stopped spinning – he lifted his head and scanned the area around him.

Sitting on the other side of him was Pete; his eyes wide with apprehension; cheeks red with anger; and his lips pressed thin – taking Noma's advice to "keep quiet" to heart. Alex looked down and found Pete's hand fisted in his shirt in a vice like grip. He reached down and squeezed it hard with reassurance. "I'm okay", he smiled – attempting to ease Pete's fears.

He then took in the incredible sight before him; humans and eight-balls together – side by side- laughing; talking and gathering their belongings, mounting up into large vehicles. He closed his eyes; rubbed at them and opened them again. Had he been hit harder than he thought? He penned Noma with an incredulous stare and she stared right back at him.

"I know", she voiced; and shrugged her shoulders. "How is this even possible?"

A large man with a weapon held protectively in front of him sauntered over and ordered, "Get up now, we're taking you three in."

Alex, Noma and Pete stood to their feet in unison to face the man giving the orders. "Take us where?" Alex asked; but got no response, as they were herded forward.

When they clamored into the van they were to travel in, the man reached for the radio at his shoulder and spoke into it, "Base – this is 259. We're headed back to New Delphi with guests."

* * *

Thank you so much for reading. Please take a moment to review; as your thoughts and comments mean a great deal. Thank you also to those of you who have already favorited and are following this story. I hope you like my take on these missing moments in the episode. Next up: episode two. I hope by the end of this week, Pete has been restored to his wonderful self, and I won't have to deviate into AU territory!


	4. Chapter 4

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: This takes place during the episodes Heir of Salvation, Mouth of the Damned; and The Narrow Gate. Alex finds he has an unexpected gift to add to his arsenal as the "chosen one" – Noma fears it; Pete is the grateful one; Michael searches for his faith in Mallory - the journey to and in New Delphi is fraught with unexpected revelations; and hope is plentiful – for the moment.

* * *

I wanted to take a quick moment to say thank you to:

dogluvva99; andlausa; Eziliveve; and guest

for your wonderful comments and support.

Your reviews have given me the encouragement to keep going with this!

Thank you!

* * *

Chapter Four: Brave not Foolish

The sharp retort of a single gunshot resounded; echoed through the night – cutting through the silence between he and Laurel – effectively ending their standoff; her faith versus his lack of it.

Laurel looked to him; her brow creased with concern. Gunshots within town limits were rare and usually meant that attack from the eight balls was eminent. She reached for her weapon and raced from the house, into the night. Michael followed after her; but in his heart already knew what she would find.

When they reached the center of town – the flames emanating from the statue sent out a warm golden glow – giving the otherwise quiet night a false sense of security and peace. Wes stumbled toward them – distraught – tears flowing down his cheeks; his voice choked with emotion as he confessed to doing what needed to be done to save Mallory. He swiped at his tears and staggered on; never looking back – ready to confess his sin; gesturing toward the church. "I'll be waiting", he yelled after her retreating form.

As he watched Wes leave the scene; and make his way up the church steps; Laurel broke into a frantic run – racing toward a fallen Harper – laid out neatly in the dirt; her hands obviously placed, folded over her blood soaked breasts. The glow of the flames – highlighted the tone of her skin – giving her the appearance of serene slumber.

Michael followed slowly in Laurel's wake – his mind knowing but unable to catch up to the event unfolding in front of him. He had coerced Harper into keeping his secret – and now she was dead.

When he reached her side – Laurel had already abandoned her weapon – fallen to her knees and lifted Harper into her arms. The blood stain - rusting at her heart; spilled over to Laurel's – twin stains for shared sacrifices.

"Oh no Harper", she cried; and rocked back and forth, weeping – sobs so great and wrenching it caused Michael to wince in sympathy. The pain of her grief – spoke to him on many levels. Harper had been her friend; her sister and her responsibility.

Michael knelt beside her in the dirt and touched her shoulder – but Laurel was lost; her chest heaving – her eyes and nose running in tandem with her wails. He watched her look to the statue – outreached arms reaching to heaven for solace - and then buried her head in Harper's neck to mourn – clenching her teeth tight together – attempting to hold back her screams.

This was his doing. Wes had killed her – believing this was the way – but it was he who had forced her to keep his secret; and so his lack of faith had sealed her death. He looked down at Harper; a bullet hole blasted through her heart; and felt anger rise in him at this terrible act. What kind of faith was this that led to such callousness?

He looked again to Laurel – and concluded – the kind that saved a town in the midst of incomprehensible horror.

Laurel had tried to tell him – explain to him that secrets were sins. To keep a secret; would bring destruction to the whole town – every man, woman, and child. He had not believed her; had not believed how important it was to confess this one secret – that wasn't even hers. Well, now he knew. Here before him lay another lesson in sacrifice.

Michael bowed his head low, and leaned close to Laurel in her sorrow, "I'm sorry", he whispered, "forgive me." Laurel lifted her head and penetrated him with a stare of sadness and confusion. "Forgive what Michael? This wasn't your fault. I tried, but she wouldn't share her confession."

He returned her gaze – but was unable to give her the truth – even now. Instead he sat silently with her in the dirt- gripping her shoulder in support, as she stroked Harper's face; pushed back wayward strands of hair; and kissed her cheek.

Slowly residents of Mallory left their homes; and joined them – uncertain of what may have happened – but ready to give comfort; remove Harper from the shadow of the flames; and help in any way they could. They gave witness to Laurel's grief with their own sorrows. Harper had been a part of them also – a member of their family. Here again was another life taken; another life sacrificed – even before the celebration – given to protect them all.

Michael scanned the gathering group of neighbors he had come to know. These people had welcomed him into this community; and had allowed him – though reluctantly; and with some trepidation – to be a part of them. All in all, they were good people – living under stressful and unusual circumstances. He noticed Mr. and Mrs. Gallahan waiting with a horse and buckboard. He nodded to them and they nodded back, acknowledging his need to help Laurel – and their willingness to stay nearby until needed.

As time passed, Laurel leaned back from Harper; and sighed deeply. "I will see you soon", she whispered, "and we will be together again." She looked up at the faces of Mallory; relinquished her hold; and swiped tiredly at the tears still trickling from her eyes.

Michael stood, reached down and helped her to her feet – steadying her as she swayed into him – dizzy with exhaustion and regret.

She pushed away from him gently; and reached down to the ground to retrieve her weapon. The neighbors, with infinite care lifted Harper into the Gallahan buckboard; and headed off to prepare her for her own divine journey.

A small sob released from Laurel's throat as she made her way to the church doors to hear Wes' confession. She paused with her hand on the knob, weak with grief – but this had to be done; and there was no one else to do it. Michael made to follow her in – but Laurel held up her hand for him to stop, "I need to do this alone", she said – entered the sanctuary and closed the door behind her.

Michael stood uncertain for a moment; looking upward to the sky for some sort of guidance. Hearing none – he followed his neighbors to say good bye to Harper; and in that moment thought of Alex and their rift and hoped to see him again – to say things that needed to be said – before time and events made it impossible.

* * *

Alex sat alongside Pete, who lay on the sofa in Julian's private chambers; watching anxiously as Noma paced back and forth in agitation. Armed men and eight balls stood around them with weapons trained on them; at the ready – itching to blame or kill someone for bringing this death and destruction to their near peaceful community.

Pete hissed in pain as Alex probed about his ribs and back – feeling for any breaks that may have occurred with his one sided fight with an angel.

They had been escorted here not long ago – after the showdown in the "market" with Gabriel and his soldiers – and now awaited an audience with Julian.

Alex squeezed Pete's neck and assured him, "You're okay. Nothing's broken, but you'll feel sore for a time." He lowered Pete's shirt and helped him to sit up. Pete grabbed his ribs and shook his head; unconvinced at what his own eyes had witnessed. He had stood before an angel – who had tried to kill him with his wings. How crazy was that?

However, looking at the pinched faces of Alex and Noma, let him know that this was the norm; and not crazy at all. Hell – this was no crazier than being possessed, he guessed. He watched his two friends closely; and made a decision. He had survived something epic here, and wanted to help.

Pete grabbed a hold of Alex's arm and held fast, "Get me a weapon Alex, and I'll fight alongside you. You can count on me", he said earnestly – his eyes shining with determination. Alex reached for his hand and squeezed back; searching his face and then asked, "Do you still see it Pete? When you look at me, do you still see that light?"

Pete was confused by the answer to his request, but answered, "Yes", and nodded with a slight smile "I can hear you too." Alex frowned – uncertain as to what this meant. "It's like you call to me. And if you let me Alex, I will do anything you ask. I want to help you win this war."

Noma stopped abruptly in her tracks and held her arms out in exasperation. "Do you hear that Alex?" she asked with an incredulous tinge to her retort and pointed to Pete. "He has no idea what he's talking about – hasn't a clue to what it means to be at war. Gabriel will come back here and kill us all. And he will show us as much mercy as he showed Neero – his own soldier."

She turned away from them, and continued to pace; roam the room – back and forth – the urge to unfurl her power and manhandle Alex out of here overwhelming her senses. Her need to protect him at all costs at war with following his lead.

"I may not understand everything that's going on here Noma – but I can pull a trigger and shoot." Pete ground through clenched teeth – trying to keep his voice low. After everything he had witnessed since being reborn; and after actually seeing a real live angel and almost being crushed by his wings – he was not going to back down.

Alex held up his hands between the two – hoping to stave off an argument.

At that, Noma ceased her pacing and plopped down on the sofa next to them; leaned over and placed her head in her hands. "What are we going to do Alex?" She moaned, knowing the predicament they found themselves in was precarious at best.

Alex could see how tired and frustrated Noma was; but his plan would work. He just needed her to be patient – not reveal herself and follow his lead. Aloud he voiced, "Whatever we have to – to secure this alliance and take down Gabriel."

They looked to each other with uncompromising intensity – "I swear Noma – I will do whatever it takes. This war has to end. Six billion people – dead. I won't let Claire be among that number." Alex then leaned back and closed his eyes, attempting to regulate his heart beat; and control his breathing. Thinking of Claire – Vega; and death always put him off kilter. He needed to gather his wits and now somehow find the words to convince Julian of his vision.

Noma leaned back as well and felt fear rise up in her belly. This was a bad idea; and she should tell Alex so. She could sense that Julian was not someone to be trusted; but Alex was adamant. Should she reach out to Michael – tell him where they were and hope that he would answer?

She turned to look at him and watched him meditating; trying to shore himself up to whatever was going to happen next – and smiled slightly at Pete mimicking his actions – his eyes closed also; breathing slow and easy.

She chuckled and rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes and thought – like two peas in a pod – and could not remember where she had heard such a saying.

She opened her eyes and considered Pete sadly; and knew instinctively that he probably – barring some miracle – would not survive this campaign. He was game enough and foolish enough to give all he had to give – which was only his life; and she could not help but to admire that. But how would Alex react if he lost Pete here after only just bringing him back to humanity?

She had not foreseen the almost instant attachment between the two. Was it a byproduct of the eviction? What about her own attachment? What was that a byproduct of? It went beyond friendship; and Michael's orders to protect him – that she was sure of. Outside of that she wasn't clear on what she felt; only that her feelings ran deep.

She stood up to pace again; the armed guards watching her closely, as she tried to walk off excess energy from her mind and body – here in this small room – full of all things old and even older.

Then Julian stepped into the room – sucking the air out of it with his dark aura and magnetism. Alex stood quickly to his feet with Pete at his shoulder. Noma thought with apprehension, let the negotiations begin; and soon after, Alex revealed his markings; and confessed to being the chosen one.

* * *

Michael stood on the steps of the church, watched the sun rise; and took a moment to relish this everyday miracle. Right here - now - he could sense God, speaking through the sunrise - of beauty and creation. Everything around him seemed so peaceful – as pink and orange hues streamed among the fluff of clouds overhead.

It was hard to believe that tonight would be the celebration; and Laurel's sacrifice. He couldn't bear to see her leave this world; so he wanted to get a last look at Mallory before saying his goodbyes to her. Staying here to watch her end her life was not why he had stayed.

Two nights ago – after preparing Harper to rest alongside her parents – he had made the decision to leave Mallory and find Alex – to apologize for leaving and make it up to him; do whatever it took to regain his trust and together fight this war and end it.

He had thought remaining here would help him find his faith – and though it had not come back to him the way he had thought – in a way it had made him more determined than ever to listen for his Father's voice in all things.

Yesterday in the heat of the sun, he had watched as Laurel dug her own grave in the hard, dusty earth – her hands covered in blisters and her face flushed red. She had confessed to him that the celebration was more of a sacrifice; an observance of past Mallory leaders and recognition of five more years of protection. She had volunteered to hear Mallory's confessions and now that they had all been heard; it was time for her to leave and take them with her.

His heart had clenched at the time; and he had found it hard to believe such a thing – but thinking on Harper – he believed now.

As he left the church – he tried not to think about what would take place there tonight. Laurel – who loved these people – who loved God, would be no more – sacrificed to save them all. He pushed the thought of it aside; and continued walking toward the school house.

From under the window – he could hear the teacher, Ms. Tracey, call and recite the mantra to prepare the children for the night's celebration, "Reverend Phillips met the prophet – who started the fire to protect us all through sacrifice."

The children's voices rang out in unison to answer her, "Secrets are sin. Confession is our salvation."

Ms. Tracey recited again, "Reverend Phillips met the prophet – who started the fire to protect us all through sacrifice."

Innocent voices called to her once more, "We keep the flame to cleanse our souls."

Ms. Tracey forged on, "Reverend Phillips met the prophet – who started the fire to protect us all through sacrifice."

And the children concluded, "The fire lit will keep us safe."

A brief moment of silence floated through the window; and then their voices were lifted in song – reaching out to God to profess their love.

As the voices drifted dreamily over the town, Michael moved on and made a point to stop at the home of Mr. Rooney – whose son he had helped to bury that night of the storm. They sat on the porch together – neither one of them speaking – only looking out solemnly over Mallory and her people as they moved about living their lives.

Michael thought back on that night and Mr. Rooney's courageous spirit. Would he be so stoic; so accepting if he were to lose Alex or his own brother in battle? When he left Mr. Rooney's porch – he only nodded and made his way toward the stables.

While he walked, he wondered on how Wes' act fit into all this. In his mind, murder was committed here – murder under the guise of protecting the town. However, Laurel and the others didn't see it that way. Harper's sacrifice protected the town, and that's all that mattered. To him – Wes was just as much a danger as the possessed eight balls beyond Mallory limits; only the people here were blind to it. He would find a way - to see to it, that Wes never committed such an act again.

The sight of Laurel entering the stables interrupted his musings and he stood still in his tracks, wondering if now was a good time to say goodbye – to tell her of his decision to leave. He took a deep breath, approached the stables and entered quietly.

As he drew near, he watched as she weighed a weapon – a small knife – in her hands; the very weapon perhaps she would use this night to take her own life. He stood still at her side and placed a hand on her shoulder – frowning – not comfortable feeling so disjointed.

He knew for certain – he could not see her do this thing. He felt something for her – felt grateful that Father had led him here to find her – to see that there was still something good; no someone good – in this world. And that goodness was her.

She touched his arm and he could sense the fear in her. Though she was brave – he could tell her resolve was frayed. "You are afraid", he stated and when she said, "Yes" – there were tears in her eyes and her lips trembled.

He drew her to him and kissed her forehead – and seeing that she did not object – then her lips; gently at first with care, and then with understanding. Her mouth opened to his as if she had always been waiting – waiting for this exact moment in time to happen – and relaxed into his body; tense with wanting her.

He reached down and brushed the hair from her face; and locked eyes with her – waiting for her to be sure that this was what she wanted. She dropped the knife to the ground and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him down until they both began to stumble toward an empty horse stall; and fell unceremoniously into the hay and straw.

When he fell with her landing on top of him, she breathed in the scent of him at his neck and held onto him tight – crying in his arms – unable to stop trembling; the act of sacrifice frightening her – wondering if she would be brave enough to go through with it.

Michael stroked her hair – her neck; and her back and held her close – whispering to her of her bravery – her love – her willingness to sacrifice; and how proud he was to know her; and how God surely held her in high esteem.

He could feel her wet lashes flutter at his neck and he shivered with desire; as she relaxed with trust and certainty. She drew in closer and whispered back, "Will you love me?" her hand splayed over his heart – feeling the beat of it through her palm.

Michael grabbed hold of her hand and pressed it harder to his chest and nodded, "Yes", and kissed her lips again – then the hollow of her neck, then her shoulder and finally her palm, where the warmth of him lingered.

When they undressed and sat before each other – bare – among the straw, with the sun filtering in through the windows; the noise of life taking place around them; and the voices of children raised up in song – he cupped her cheek – took in her beauty; and did as she asked; and lay with her.

No, loved her.

* * *

Pete and Noma sat on the cool floor outside the asylum, and listened to the tortured screams of the insane possessed. Their voices seeped through the bottom of the iron clad door; out into the cold hallway – and gave the hollow space the eerie feeling of a haunting. The noise was incessant – nonstop; and frightening.

Pete held onto Alex's coat as if it were a life line. If he let it go – put it down – he would most likely drown. He had tried to tell Alex not to go in that place – beyond those doors was nothing good – only death and insanity. He knew how important this was to Alex – to prove his worth to Julian – but to go in there alone – was it foolish or brave?

To find a key among so many was an impossible task; and a suicide mission to boot. Whatever this key would open surely was not worth his life. He could save Vega some other way, couldn't he?

Julian stood a few feet from them with his own men; and Pete could sense the evil in him, even if he professed to want the same things as Alex – peace and the Archangel Gabriel's death.

He squint his eyes and pierced a hard stare at the back of Julian's head with anger. If anything happened to Alex – he would try his best to find a way to kill him.

As if sensing his stare – Julian turned to gauge Pete with a curious glare of his own. Pete dropped his gaze quickly, fear pressed down on his heart – making it hard for him to breathe. He squeezed the coat even tighter – wishing the door would open; and for Alex to walk through unharmed.

Noma sat next to Pete and could feel the unease rolling off him in waves – crashing into her – giving her a sense of foreboding.

Why wouldn't Alex listen to her? She should have ignored what he wanted, and gone with him – used her strength to help him. Instead his instructions to her were to look after Pete and protect Vega. How was she to do that without him? He was everything to her. Without him, nothing mattered – not the war – the safety of Vega – none of it.

She looked toward the asylum door and for the hundredth time during the past hour – willed him to be okay – to not be reckless – and to think before he acted. Eight balls were unpredictable at best – but crazy ones, and with only a flashlight and a knife as defense?

She tilted her head back and sighed – her worry mixed with Pete's worry causing her heartbeat to accelerate and a headache to develop just above her right eye. She massaged her aching head and groaned. What would she do without him? How would she explain his death to Michael – or Claire?

What would life be without Alex Lannon?

She knew he loved Claire – they were having a child together. His whole purpose in living was to protect them – make a new, safer world for them. But what of her; what did he feel for her?

Down very deep – she knew she loved him and that in some way he loved her too. But it wasn't the same. He would never love her the way he loved Claire. Noma shook her head and dismissed it all from her mind. There was no room for it. They were at war and her job was to protect the chosen one – if he would only let her.

She grabbed Pete's hand – which gripped Alex's coat so tight his knuckles were white – and squeezed it – giving him a smile that she hoped came across as reassuring. He smiled a little back at her and held the coat out for her to take – a sweet gesture; but unnecessary.

She pushed it back toward him and spoke with a confidence she did not feel, "He's going to be okay." And just in that moment, there was banging at the door; and muffled voices screaming to be let out.

Pete and Noma scrambled to their feet – yelling for Julian to open the door.

When he stepped through – exhausted; sweaty – holding up the round, golden key – with General Reisen at his side – Noma rushed him; flung her arms about his neck and kissed him hard. Surprised by her own reaction to his return; but glad of it – she kissed him with all the love and relief she could give, holding back nothing – with Pete smiling ridiculously wide beside them.

Pete took in their joy; gave a small little fist pump and thought – brave then it was; not foolish at all.

* * *

Michael stood outside the protected perimeter of Mallory and vowed never to forget Mallory; Laurel, what he had learned here; and what she had given him.

That Father was here on Earth – in that he still loved mankind and wished them to survive was now more evident to him than ever before. That He was here and perhaps had never really left was a revelation to him.

Gabriel need not commit atrocities to lure him back; God was here among them – watching; gauging and waiting. He could be heard and seen if he really listened; and Laurel had taught him to listen – to serve – and to sacrifice.

She had given him the gift of love and faith. She had allowed him to take over the sins of others and sacrifice his life for their safe keeping. Something he had never contemplated before.

Truly God had led him here – to speak to him – not as he did before – but in this new way.

So, now he was listening. He would go and find Alex – beg his forgiveness; and make things right between them. They would fight this war together – his faith restored; and a willingness to sacrifice now understood.

He would miss Laurel; but was glad she would now live to see her life fulfilled.

Michael took one last glance at the church below; and reveled in the voices lifted in song. He unfurled his wings and took flight.

* * *

Thank you so much for reading; please review to let me know what you think. I enjoy filling in those hidden moments in the episode and hope you like them. I agree with my guest reviewer that the last episode of Dominion was the BEST episode ever – so far! Here's to hoping the best for Pete! Also I want to take a moment to thank those of you who have favorited and/or following this story.


	5. Chapter 5

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: This takes place during the episodes Heir of Salvation, Mouth of the Damned; The Narrow Gate and A Bitter Truth. Alex finds he has an unexpected gift to add to his arsenal as the "chosen one" – Noma fears it; Pete is the grateful one; Michael searches for his faith in Mallory - the journey to and in New Delphi is fraught with unexpected revelations; and hope is plentiful – for the moment – until it isn't.

* * *

Here's hoping you enjoy those missing moments and thoughts of our characters during the episode A Bitter Truth. Please review; as reviews make me smile! Thank you.

* * *

Chapter Five: Uncertainty

Sleep was a good thing and he relished it – needed it. But lately sleep or rest of any kind had been an allusive thing – hit or miss; taken in small chunks – even while standing.

They had all been running on fumes; adrenaline and luck. So the chance to be still, drift – to loosen his muscles; and have a moment of peace was bliss. The fact that they had a bed to lie on was a bonus. That the mattress was soft; the sheets relatively clean; and the springs comfortable added to his content – which led to actual slumber. Slumber that began even and deep; but quickly descended into something else.

He should have known better – that in his sleep, he would not find peace or rest at all. Instead – as soon as he went under – into that silent space of nothingness; he could sense its presence. It reached out to him – called him by name and chased him down.

The brightness of it was deceptive; the heat of it scorching and it bore down on him – bringing with it a malevolent darkness instead of joyful goodness.

He tried to run – to get away; hide – but the thing after him was so dazzling that it lit the way and left nowhere for him to conceal himself. Everything around him was in shadow – except that thing – whispering to him to let him in; open his mind; and become its vessel. "Home", it hissed at him - curling around him – pleading to be let in. That thing wanted to come home – inside of him.

His mind reeled with the unknowns of his life. What had he done to deserve this? Who had he wronged – or hurt in such a way that would bring this menace – no this curse, down on him?

Then it was there hovering above him; and he couldn't move – could not even summon enough courage to scream. He felt fear so strong it paralyzed him. If only he could at least look away. Maybe if he did not see it coming it would leave him be – turn to someone else – seep through their pours and let him alone.

"Yes, choose someone else", he prayed; but watched instead as it floated slowly toward him; pounced - invaded his body and consumed him; destroyed him from within, with its fire and heat – leaving him with nothing of who he was, where he belonged or what his future might hold.

Pete bolted straight up; breathing hard – grabbed at his throat and could feel that thing invading his body – obliterating his mind and damaging his soul. For a moment he could not think where he was. The dream held onto him – causing his heart to race and his mouth to go dry.

He took a tentative look around the room, and wondered if what he was having was a memory; a dream or a premonition. It felt so real. As real as the bed he sat on – soft; comfortable – with a pillow no less.

He squint his eyes, and could see that the room was dark, with neon lights straining from the large opening above him – giving everything around him an otherworldly glow -a glow that reminded him of the brightly lit monster that devoured him in his dreams.

Pete swallowed down a remnant of fear and shuddered despite the heat in the room. He swiped sweat from his brow; and could feel the dampness in his hair as it stuck to the sides of his face. He rubbed at his eyes and tried to concentrate.

The last thing he remembered before laying down to rest was Alex – beaming with confidence; holding up the golden key above his head – Noma in his arms; with a man he did not know, standing perplexed and uncertain behind them. He could still hear the noise of the damned and insane muffled behind the iron clad door of the asylum – now a distant worry. Alex had made it out. They couldn't hurt him now.

Pete smiled slightly to himself in the dark remembering that moment. He had never been so glad to see anybody in his life – that he could remember that is. No one meant as much to him as Alex – the chosen one no less – who had saved him from the life of an eight ball. And from what he could see of the eight balls here in New Delphi, that was a good thing; and he was glad of it.

When he pulled his hands away from his face – he felt Alex's jacket fall from his chest and pulled it back close to feel its security. If anything happened to Alex – what would become of him? Could he survive here in New Delphi? What of Vega? Could he find his way there?

He trembled as relief of Alex's return and the horror of his dream collided to make his blood run cold; and his heart beat fast with anxiety. What was to come next? What was going to happen to them?

Julian had seemed pleased with Alex's triumph and had given them this space to rest, eat and think. When they had reached their assigned quarters above the "market", everyone had found a bunk – collapsed – and succumbed to exhaustion.

It had taken him a minute – but finally adrenaline left his body and he had fallen into a dream state full of bright monsters – trying to force their way into his body and take over his mind.

He flopped back down to the bed and took in a shuddered breath – threw his arm over his eyes and fought to keep the tears at bay. He was going to lose his mind if he wasn't careful. If he didn't watch out, the asylum would be his new home; and thoughts of a future would be mute at best.

"Are you okay?" Alex called out to Pete in the near darkness. Neon lights flickered on and off in tandem with the night life of trade and commerce in full force on the floor of the "market".

Pete startled at the unexpected sound of Alex's voice and pulled his arm away from his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you", he whispered in deference to the others in the room.

Alex threw his legs over the side of his bunk and shrugged his shoulders. "You didn't wake me. I couldn't sleep."

As Pete's eyes adjusted to the on again – off again illumination of New Delphi – he could make out Noma asleep on the bunk to his right; General Riesen to his left; and Alex – with his blue aura outlining his body – perched on the bunk across from him – studying him with a concerned look.

Pete sat up; looked over at his friend; and stared back – gripping the jacket now at his stomach, remembering what it felt like to wait helplessly outside the asylum doors – uncertain if Alex would survive the challenge and in turn save his life again.

He reluctantly loosened his grip; sighed and released it – tossing the jacket over to Alex in one swift motion.

"What's wrong Pete?" Alex insisted – catching his jacket and putting it on in one fluid motion – effectively covering the markings on his arms that taunted him every second with their mystery he could not solve.

Pete thought to say many things, but instead voiced aloud, "Nothing. Just glad you're alive is all."

They looked across the room at each other and smiled – a pause of camaraderie shared between them. After some moments of silence, with only the sounds of heavy breathing from their sleeping companions – Pete spoke up and in a hushed voice asked, "Would you tell me something about you; of Vega?"

Alex raised an eyebrow and wondered about the request. Pete was obviously troubled about something – his interrupted sleep a huge clue. But hell – who wasn't troubled. Trouble was what they lived and breathed right now.

He didn't usually like to talk about himself – his life - which had more downs than ups; but if it would help Pete, he would give it a try. The kid looked about ready to jump out of his skin; and he knew that feeling well. A long time ago, someone had sat with him; and shared his life story – and it did help.

It took so long for Alex to reply that Pete thought maybe he shouldn't have asked. Then out of the quiet Alex asked, "You sure you want to hear this stuff?" Pete nodded and settled back to listen.

So Alex sat with his back to the wall and talked about growing up in Vega – abandoned by his father – left to fend for himself on the streets as a V1. He talked of how it was hard being alone – tired all the time from hunger; and being afraid. Then he met Michael – who watched over him; saved his life and taught him how to survive. He spoke of joining the military; being a part of the angel core and falling in love with Clair Riesen.

When he spoke of love Alex could hear Pete laughing in the dark; and chuckled with him. "She is the best of me Pete. If being the chosen one means anything, I want it to mean that she will be safe."

Then he spoke of Jeep and inheriting the markings; of the war –and how he was determined to put an end to it.

As he talked, Noma woke to Alex telling his story. She kept her breathing even and steady; not wanting to interrupt. She took in the tenor of his voice – the honesty there and let it wash over her. To hear him speak of his childhood; hardships; love for Claire and Michael and his disappointments was a revelation to her.

And though she knew he cared for her, he had never spoken to her of such things. He only shared with her his relentless drive to kill Gabriel and end this war. A twinge of jealousy sparked in her heart for the briefest of moments; and she let it go. After all, Alex had saved Pete from a horrifying existence as a roaming eight ball. It was only right that he give something of himself.

She settled deeper down into her pillow to listen.

Pete attended to every word of Alex's story and interrupted only once with nervous laughter when he spoke of love. In his mind's eye he could see all that Alex described and wondered at such a life - to love and be loved – to have a home; to rise above such hardship; and to be a real live hero. What could be better?

When Alex fell silent the room felt charged and alive with his story. Pete breathed in and whispered, "I have no place to call home", and looked down at his hands frowning. "Do you think Vega could be my home too?" Once the words were out of his mouth, he wasn't sure why he asked – only sensing that New Delphi held nothing good for him.

Alex stared over at his friend and promised, "Where ever I go Pete – you are welcome."

Suddenly Alex was on his feet. He looked down from their perch onto the "market" of New Delphi and watched the interactions – still amazed at the intelligence of the eight balls, and the apparent harmony between them and humans. There was no outward hatred here as in Vega – only commerce; trade and teamwork. How was it even possible?

He couldn't help it. He still felt there was something not quite right about this; but was glad he had been able to convince Julian to help them to join Vega in the fight against Gabriel. Gabriel's down fall was all that mattered.

But as he looked down among the bustling crowd of life below – he could feel that Julian was holding something back. What was this key he had risked his life for? What did it open? What if he could find Julian's secret? Perhaps he could use it as leverage.

Pete rose to stand beside his friend, curious as to his sudden pensive mood. He could tell that Alex was on to something and wanted to act on it. "What are you thinking?" he asked a little nervously, as he looked down on New Delphi. Watching the activity below sent a chill running down his spine. Being here in this place frightened him beyond once being an eight ball.

Alex smiled widely at Pete – his eyes bright with mischief, "Let's go take a look around – shall we?" and he moved toward the door.

Pete stood frozen in place. Hearing those words gave him a sense of dread. "I don't know Alex. That might not be such a good idea. Julian asked us to wait – he might not like us poking around."

Alex turned back to Pete and winked, "We're guests here Pete, not prisoners. Why not take a friendly tour? Besides, he's hiding something – I know it." He moved behind Pete; placed his hands on his back and pushed him toward and then out the door. Alex yelled over his shoulder, "Noma – keep an on the General. Pete and I are going for a walk on the town."

Noma sat up with a pout and a disapproving frown. She was busted. Alex knew all along she had been awake – listening the whole time. She threw her pillow in his direction – aiming for his head – and missing miserably. "Don't do anything stupid Alex", she called after him; wondering if it was even worth giving the warning.

Alex reached behind his head and caught the pillow deftly; threw it back to her and laughed, "Of course not. See you soon." Alex turned and followed an apprehensive Pete out the door.

* * *

Michael unfurled his wings; left his feet and took flight. The force of the atmosphere met him head on – giving him a brief sensation of suffocation – and then freedom. He spun toward the heavens and relished the heat of the sun on his face.

He always loved that moment of lifting off and taking to the skies. Here above it all is where he felt most at peace – poised amidst the miracle of God's creations.

If he could not fly – breeze through the clouds; dip, dive or look down on the earth – he would die. Father's gift of flight was exhilarating; and he hoped to never lose it.

Once over Mallory – he veered away from the town and Laurel – and did not look back. He had found something good there – found his faith and above all knew his Father had not truly left him. But now it was time to move on; time to find Alex and set things right.

Noma had contacted him days ago – she and Alex could be anywhere by now – but he would head to their last location; and see if he could gather some clue as to where they were headed.

As the wind caressed his face and bore him up- so did his spirits lift. Below him from this vantage point – the earth looked unscathed – pristine – almost as beautiful as the day it was created; untouched by the devastation of the Extermination Wars.

From up here, the grass was greener – the oceans bluer – the trees lusher and the snowcapped mountains perfect. From here – God's gift to man was without blemish.

Michael reveled in the sight – and looked to the heavens – his home – lost to him now for such a long time; but the memory of it still in his heart – never to be forgotten. Home – maybe he would live to see it again. Maybe if he could help Alex regain a semblance of peace here on earth – he could go back home and rest.

He was more determined than ever now. His moment of wandering and indecision was over. Alex was the key; he would find him and not leave his side again. He had learned much from Laurel. He would confess to Alex his mistakes – ask forgiveness for his betrayal and die for him if need be.

"I hear you Father", he spoke aloud scanning the azure, blue sky. Laurel had given him the gift of sacrifice and truth; and now he would live it. Nothing would stop him from fulfilling God's will.

Decelerating to earth – he could sense Noma's last location here in this place; and where there was Noma, Alex would not be far. He dove low and searched the area and there on the road Alex's jeep stood out amongst the dust and dried earth.

Here – down below the clouds – the earth did not look so welcoming. The ground was hard; and kicked up arid dust when he effortlessly landed. The tepid air tickled his throat and made his mouth dry like cotton.

He moved toward the jeep; saw no recent signs of occupation and was drawn inexplicitly to the knife left behind in the carriage. He held the knife in his hand and was drawn back to that moment decades ago when he had given this to Alex. It had been a gift – for protection and to seal a bond.

Only he had broken that bond, even then. He placed the knife in his pocket – vowing to give it to Alex again. This time he would not break his promises.

As Michael turned to ready himself for flight; and find Alex – he instead found himself face to face with his brother. Gabriel stood still in his path – wings unfurled; watching him and then met his gaze, determined to make Michael look away first.

* * *

Alex and Pete walked the "market" floor of New Delphi – eyes wide with anticipation. Here in this underground bunker – the sounds were deafening. The beck and call of trade and barter bounced off the walls, sending shock waves of noise from one end of the "market" to the other.

The neon lights overhead lit the area at half-mast; the only clue that outside it must be night.

The sight of the continuous back and forth of trade was exciting; loud and crowded. So many people – so many possessed – side by side without being fearful or suspicious. The togetherness was unnerving to Alex and the anxiety in his eyes and the cautious way he walked was not lost on Pete.

He scanned the area himself and if Alex didn't trust this utopia – then neither would he.

As they walked along the floor, the heat of the open space was almost unbearable. Bodies were packed close – pushing, pulling; and unyielding. Alex and Pete smiled and laughed nervously together – the atmosphere heady enough to make them giddy with misgiving and uneasiness -the danger of it all making their eyes bright and hearts beat fast.

Pete felt an ache of memory stab him behind his left eye; and could not understand it. He led the way through the "streets" and corridors; and was unclear how he knew which way to go – what way to turn; which alley traded food and which weapons stand sold what hardware.

He kept the worry to himself. Alex didn't seem to notice that fear gripped at his lungs and caused his head to ache.

What did this mean? Who exactly was he?

He looked toward Alex and then had no doubts. He did not know who he was before – but right now, at this moment he was Alex's friend; and for this moment it was enough.

Alex then stopped in his tracks and held his arm out for Pete to stop with him. Up ahead was Julian and his personal guard of eight balls; marching through the melee at a determined pace. He and Pete looked to each other and took off quickly to follow.

"I wonder where he's going in such a hurry?", he put to Pete as they rushed through the crowd to catch up. They tried to follow as unobtrusively as possible – stopped to look at wares along the way; feigned interest in weaponry and even talked prices.

But in the end, they lost him as he descended down a dark tunnel further below the compound.

Alex and Pete stood undecided outside the tunnel. Alex itched to make his way below ground; and wondered where the passageway led to. What secret was Julian hiding so far underground? Was this the leverage he needed to secure Julian's loyalty to Vega? Should he push the envelope and follow now?

He looked to Pete – who stared back at him – intent to follow his lead, but decided that he needed Noma for this little recognizance. Though his friend was willing; he lacked the stealth to pull off true spying.

Alex pulled Pete aside and yelled above the cacophony of noise, "Let's head back to the others."

Pete nodded and followed along – looking back briefly toward the tunnel Julian disappeared into and frowned with worry. Things were starting to happen, and his stomach flipped and churned with unease.

When they finally reached their room – Pete grabbed Alex's arm just as he was about to open the door; and halted his move to enter. Something weighed on him deeply. Perhaps it was his dream earlier that spoke to him of losing himself – or maybe it was the sinister danger he knew existed here in New Delphi and within Julian – but there was something he had to say before it was too late and he never got a chance to say things that needed to be said.

Alex stared down at him and waited – sensing Pete had something important to say; and didn't want to rush him.

"No matter what happens today Alex, I want you to know that I think of you as my friend." As a show of his sincerity, he offered his hand and waited. Surprised at the formality of it all, Alex reached for Pete's hand and with a firm grip – shook it with genuine affection; grabbed his shoulder and smiled. "And you mine buddy", he confirmed.

Pete smiled back slightly and pushed his way past Alex into the room, where the others stood waiting to hear of their nocturnal tour of New Delphi.

* * *

As they made their way overland to the underground bunker – Michael couldn't help but notice the changes in his brother. He seemed more harried; tense – on the edge of sanity; perhaps even a little more irrational than he remembered.

But much had happened during his self-imposed exile. His sister was dead; the aerie destroyed and the markings out of reach – Gabriel's quest for Father's return becoming more and more fraught with obstacles. Maybe a touch of irrationality was to be expected from Gabriel; but he could not let that stop him.

Although Gabriel did not agree with his plan to rescue Alex this way – he was by his side anyway – determined to not let him go alone into New Delphi. He marveled at his brother's unwavering love for him even though they differed on many fronts; and was grateful for his help.

No matter their differences; no matter their many losses – Gabriel always moved to protect him. And even though he threatened to kill his brother if he so much as harmed Alex – he was not sure that if the opportunity presented itself- he could bring himself to do it.

He would have to find another way to deal with Gabriel once Alex was safe – preferably without hurting him.

Michael could not deny it – he loved his brother. If it were not for this; were it not for the sake of humanity; and Alex's safety – he would do anything for him – forsake all; lay down his life. Gabriel had done as much for him on many occasions.

But things had changed. Gabriel had changed – circumstances had left them on opposite sides of this battle; and yet – be it for his own reasons – his brother was here today with him, ready to fight his way into the lion's den to help him rescue the chosen one.

He listened carefully and heard nothing from Noma – hoping this meant something good. Without a doubt Alex was alive – for he would know it if that were not the case.

Now suddenly outside the underground fortress – standing alongside Gabriel – Michael could not help admitting to himself that it felt really good to be on the same side as his brother. Good to have a common purpose – to know without hesitation Gabriel had his back, and would not let him down. They had always been a formidable team – Father's best.

Michael looked to his brother and Gabriel smiled confidently back at him. He laughed and the mirth went straight to his eyes, "So serious brother", he teased, "remember, together we are unstoppable."

Michael bowed his head – his arrogance having been tempered in Mallory and sighed with exasperation, "Don't underestimate this enemy Gabriel; Julian has kept New Delphi sequestered for twenty-five years."

Gabriel rolled his eyes; unsheathed his weapons and held them at his side, "Do you want to do this or not Michael?"

Michael brought his eyebrows together in concentration and nodded in the affirmative, "Just be careful", he insisted. Gabriel nodded back – left his feet and called back, "Then follow me brother – I know the way."

Michael watched as his brother soared without effort over the compound and veered toward their destination admiring his strength and fearlessness. Following his lead, he took flight.

* * *

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed these missing moments and thoughts of the characters during this episode. Please review as your thoughts and comments mean a great deal. Thank you!


	6. Chapter 6

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: This takes place during the episode A Bitter Truth. Alex finds he has an unexpected gift to add to his arsenal as the "chosen one" – Noma fears it; Pete is the grateful one; Michael searches for his faith in Mallory – the journey to and in New Delphi is fraught with unexpected revelations; and hope is plentiful – for the moment – until it isn't.

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Well, for this chapter, I have definitely gone over into the realm of AU. Please review and let me know what you think. Thanks for reading everyone!

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Chapter Six: Reunited

Noma found herself in a precarious position – sweating profusely – her hands bound and a filthy cloth stretched thin in her mouth; tearing the skin at the corners of her lips. She groaned in frustration as she was pushed down to her knees; giving into the mercy of this maniacal thug; and his entourage of eight balls, and brainwashed humans – who at this moment threatened their lives.

She looked beside her and there was Alex kneeling next to her in the same predicament – gagged and bound – his eyes wide open; pupils blown with fear as he watched Pete being led to what – torture?

They locked eyes and she searched his – looking for his permission; a sign – anything, to unfurl her power – take control of this situation and save them all. But instead of permission, she saw him shake his head no – his body language directing her to stand down.

Noma deflated with uncertainty – sinking further to the ground – not sure she would be able to follow his lead this time.

After all this was Pete, and he was in danger; his face stunned, his skin ashen – as Julian rubbed his shoulders sensually. She tensed in rage as he pushed Pete down into the ragged dentist's chair and then strapped him in, first his arms; then his legs – all the while smiling, and petting his hair.

Pete was a lamb to the slaughter; and she could see that he was too frightened to even resist. Noma cringed right along with Pete as she watched him shudder beneath Julian's touch– his eyes wet with unshed tears and his chin trembling. She screamed out obscenities behind her gag as Julian caressed Pete's back – his neck, then arms; feigning intimacy.

At her side, Alex struggled to loosen his bonds – but all the struggling seemed to achieve were bloody wrists and a kick to his ribs by obedient eight balls – knocking him to the floor; causing his breathing to hitch and sputter.

Noma screamed out Alex's name through the effective muzzle jammed in her mouth and down her throat. Alex struggled back to his knees – breathing hard through his nose – trying not to vomit and choke on his own bile; nodding to Noma to let her know that he was okay.

As he righted himself, Alex pierced Julian with eyes cold as metal – halfway listening to his lecture on New Delphi history and his secret weapon – an amphora made of empyrean steel. He held the jar up for them to see; and stroked it almost lovingly.

Then, Julian held up the round golden key – the one he had risked his life for - and expounded on how that key could open the amphora, summon angels to possess human bodies and create his army. His laugh sent a shiver down his spine, and he knew Noma could feel his sense of dread. Julian was truly insane.

But right now, watching Pete shake with fear, Alex wondered what was to happen next; what he should do next. Should he unleash his own weapon – Noma – and risk all his plans; or should he wait – be patient; and see what was to come. Insane or not, Julian and New Delphi was what he needed to protect Vega and bring down Gabriel.

He didn't have to look at Noma to know what she wanted to do; and he understood. Pete was their friend – newly brought back to humanity; and his responsibility. He had promised to look after him – gave his friendship and offered him a home.

But it wasn't that simple – was it? He lowered his head and tried to think; hoping Pete could forgive him.

Julian looked to these three children – two on their knees and one waiting to join his army – snorted with disdain and turned the key on the amphora. Within moments the summons had found a lower angel in the ether and lured it down; swimming languidly to the source of its existence – a remnant of God, calling out to it.

Pete stared in horror as the angel circled the amphora and with Julian's coaxing, soothing words slid its way toward him – just like in his dreams.

He pulled at his restraints to get away, but it was useless – he couldn't move. Fear welled up in his throat, and blocked his airway so that he could not even scream.

So, this was to be his fate. His dreams had been a premonition after all. He would be leaving this harsh world today – for certainly possession was equal to death. He closed his eyes to block out the slithering light; and instead of praying for it to take another and pass him by – he thought of the one regret he would have in departing the life he knew – leaving Alex and Noma.

He bravely opened his eyes then; took one last look at his friends; and attempted to sear their faces into his memory so that he would not forget them – not forget their kindness to him or the brief sense of family he had found in their circle. Alex's blue aura still showed bright to him and he was glad.

When he squeezed his eyes shut again – he could still see their faces – hoping their image and goodness would follow him into possession. Tears streamed from his eyes; the deceiving light of the angel entered, burned in is body and Menathas screamed in his brain, "I am home."

Julian beamed down at his new soldier Menathas; released him from his bonds – helped him to his feet with care and embraced him. "Welcome home", he cooed; taking delight in Alex's rage and Noma's disbelief. Now who would be next - he thought to himself? Perhaps the girl. Julian turned then to choose; a half smile gracing his lips - amused at their reactions.

Alex made to rise from his knees and charge Julian – thinking to wipe that smug grin from his face – but could not find purchase. The eight balls reached for him and held him down at his shoulders – keeping him from moving forward. He struggled in their grasp; his vision gone red, and his ears buzzing with outrage.

This could not be happening – not again - not to Pete.

Decision made – he looked to Noma; his eyes pleading with her to reveal herself now; cursing himself for waiting. Noma read his message loud and clear – unfurled her seven foot wingspan – stood to her feet and knocked the eight balls holding Alex down, out and away against the far wall.

Her fury was great, and she would not be denied.

Julian stood stunned with the revelation of this angel before him, unable to react quickly enough to Noma's onslaught. Menathas observed the chaos, unmoving beside him, only just united with his host – unsure what was taking place.

Julian laughed out loud amid the noise. This was a surprise, one he had not foreseen. Alex had held this weapon close to the vest – as he had the amphora. Perhaps he had underestimated the chosen one. Maybe, instead of turning him – he might consider using him.

Suddenly eight balls let out a flurry of gun fire attempting to bring down the angel – but Noma brought her wings in to surround and protect herself as the bullets deflected away from her and fell harmlessly to the ground.

Alex swiftly got to his feet – moved toward his Pete to grab him and bring him away; but Menathas resisted, pulled away – and hauled back his fist, ready to throw a punch. Alex feigned easily and brought up his bound hands, giving a two fisted punch to his temple – then to his face. And before his Pete could hit the ground, leaned over and placed him over his shoulder in one smooth motion.

Julian watched as bedlam reined all around him, and reached for the amphora sitting on the ground. But Noma anticipated his move and struck out with her wings felling him with one strike – watching as he fell unconscious at her feet. The remaining eight balls and humans grabbed for them, but she swung around in a precise circle and let her power bring them down.

Alex seeing her triumph – headed for the door with Pete over his shoulder and yelled, "Get the amphora". Noma retracted her wings; scooped up the jar and followed them out the door.

* * *

Noma held the amphora close to her body and led Alex – with their Pete still unconscious over his shoulder – to the out of the way alcove where the eight ball army lay in stasis. She hoped strategically that Julian would not think to look for them here.

When they reached their destination, Noma closed the steel door behind them; threw the lock and then rushed to help Alex slowly lower Pete to the ground, his body limp; limbs loose and uncoordinated. He looked dead to her, and she clamped down on that thought refusing to let the idea take hold.

Alex removed his gag, and held out his arms as Noma tore the rope in two with her bare hands. He nodded his thanks to her and looked down at his changed friend with trepidation.

He had hit him pretty hard and saw the forming bruise at his temple; his cheek beginning to swell, and a cut below his right eye bleeding from the force of his blow. But he was breathing – alive still.

Alex growled and hit his fist against the wall. Pain radiated through his knuckles and up his arm. He shook out the tingling sensation; and grabbed his now bloody hand with his other. "Shit!" he cursed loudly. He did this. This was his fault. He should have kept Pete by his side – not left him alone – vulnerable to capture. What had he been thinking? Pete was just a kid.

He should have listened to Noma – should have let her reveal herself sooner. Now Pete was no longer himself – possessed again. He would do the eviction, but would it work a second time? He was afraid. What if attempting the eviction again did something to him – made things worse?

Noma fell to her knees and gripped Alex's shoulder hard. "We have no time for this", she urged; hoping the tone of her voice would pull him from this moment of self-pity.

"Pete needs you - so get started", she insisted; adding a hardness to her plea to get him moving.

Alex nodded and sat down next to Pete; lifted him up into his arms and held him tight. His head lolled in the crook of his arm – his body heavy and loose. Anger seethed through him as he took in the blue tinged veins crisscrossing on Pete's face and neck. He shifted Pete further up onto his chest – put his mouth close to his ear and began the incantation – waiting to feel the markings on his arm move – shift – and send its power of eviction down into Pete.

"Sanctify this vessel. Come into the light. Protect us body and soul" he whispered. When he finished reciting the verse, there was no change. Pete lay unmoving – unresponsive; still possessed.

So he began again, "Sanctify this vessel. Come into the light. Protect us body and soul" – speaking a little louder; anxiety creeping in with the words. This time when he finished reciting, he felt his friend move about – but this was Menathas, not his Pete trying to resurface – the body tensing, fighting to leave his embrace.

So he tried again, this time shouting the words as he pulled Pete in and held him tighter still. When he finished, he felt the markings shift and Pete go limp – a dead weight in his arms; with no rise and fall of his chest.

He put his fingers to Pete's neck; felt no pulse and was afraid. If this didn't work what was he going to do? He looked to Noma – who stared back at him; biting her lower lip and holding on to Pete's hand like a vice. He looked back down at the boy in his arms. Had he just killed his friend?

But then he inexplicably felt concentrated warmth leave his body and enter the cool feel of his friend – and there it was, the flush of pink returned to Pete's cheeks; his skin losing the blue hue, with the crisscross veins receding. He touched Pete's chest and could feel him breathing even, slow and steady. He then relaxed deeper into his body and let out a sigh, as if succumbing to slumber.

Alex lifted Pete's eye lids and with relief saw the clear true color of his eyes instead of the black ink of an eight ball. He looked again to Noma and smiled, "I think he's back", he voiced in a whisper – afraid if he spoke too loud it wouldn't be true.

Noma moved to sit next to him and leaned her shoulder into his – "You did it", she breathed out, and glanced down at the amphora in her hands; then back to Pete – remembering the moment that thing slithered into his body.

"Let me open this Alex", she pleaded with a hint of rage. "Let's make them pay – make Julian pay for what he did to Pete."

Alex brushed the blood from Pete's cheek with his thumb and then turned to her. "What the hell is that Noma?" he asked.

She stared hard at him and swallowed the lump of fear in her throat. "It's death", she answered.

* * *

Thank you for reading. Please review and let me know what you think. I could not stand seeing Pete as an eight ball/possessed person another second! I guess this means this story of missing moments has taken a turn into AU territory; but I think (hope) I can work with this. Thanks again to everyone who has favorited and have decided to follow this story.


	7. Chapter 7

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: This takes place during the episode A Bitter Truth. Alex finds he has an unexpected gift to add to his arsenal as the "chosen one" – Noma fears it; Pete is the grateful one; Michael searches for his faith in Mallory – the journey to and in New Delphi is fraught with unexpected revelations; and hope is plentiful – for the moment – until it isn't.

* * *

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you will review and let me know what you think!

* * *

Chapter 7: What Now?

Pete reentered the world to semi consciousness slowly and felt a sense of peace encircling him. His mind was clear of worry as he attempted to force his lids open – but they were so heavy; hard to move. His body felt weighted down also, but not in a bad way – just in a tired way; as if he could curl in and sleep forever. Here in this dark, silent place he could rest.

Around him, he was aware of warm and cold sensations - the contradiction causing him to frown and shiver slightly. Above him he could hear someone speaking words he could not understand. The voice he thought addressing him sounded firm and encouraging – calling out to him; leading him up from this quiet, peaceful place. He rolled to his side, and pushed into a soft resistant force. He was reluctant to leave his dark sanctuary – but that someone kept calling his name. Irritation flashed briefly in his thoughts – but that voice sounded so worried. "There's nothing to worry about", he thought to himself. "I just need to sleep".

Pete groaned, nuzzled into the warmth and felt his cheek press against the security of worn leather. He breathed in and knew the scent of Alex right away; and leaned in further to take refuge – to just be still for a little while longer.

But Alex had other ideas. "Wake up Pete – wake up", he urged; giving him a slight shake – praying silently that he would open his eyes and be himself again. Be that talkative boy, who wanted the answers to everything; who found humor in the direst of moments – who stood at his side and was loyal without question. If he woke and was not himself – what would he do?

Alex squeezed Pete about his shoulders and whispered, "Please be you."

Through his peaceful reprieve, Pete could feel the anxiety. It pushed through his tranquility and pulled him up into reality. When he finally got control of his eye lids, he answered the call; opened his eyes and found himself on a cold, concrete floor – in the arms of his friend. The blue aura around him engulfed his spirit – spreading through his limbs, his veins and his mind. He felt well, whole and safe.

Noma sat next to them on the ground – anxiously watching him, watching her – her front teeth gnawing on her lower lip. He looked down, and noticed her hand gripping his with such force – he winced. She released his hand apologetically; gasped, and covered her mouth – her eyes wide and wet.

Pete took in a deep breath and smiled – glad to see them – but unclear on what was happening. "Hello", he croaked – his throat dry. He then found himself pulled swiftly up into such a fierce hug, so strong that he could barely breathe. But such fierceness was welcomed, and he didn't mind.

He waited a beat – for Alex to have his moment; and then hugged him back just as hard, and choked out, "I can't breathe." Alex laughed softly at that, and pulled back, holding Pete by his shoulders – unshed tears in his eyes; a crooked grin plastered on his face. Had he truly done it? Was Pete's humanity restored for a second time?

He looked carefully into the face of his friend – and found Pete, his Pete, staring back at him. All be it, unsure and semi aware – it was definitely his Pete; brow furrowed and a question quickly forming on his lips. Only his Pete would awaken from possession to ask a question.

Feeling overwhelmed with emotion, Alex released his friend; stood swiftly to his feet and walked to the nearby wall. He stood with his hands on top of his head – staring wide eyed at his friend – incredibly grateful that the power of eviction somehow had been bestowed on him. He had no words to describe the overpowering significance of this moment.

He looked to Noma, and she watched him with unsurpassed awe.

Alex turned away from them; pressed his hands and forehead against the wall – felt the cool plaster against his hot skin and silently thanked a God he was not sure he ever believed in. But now he believed different.

He pulled the sleeves of his jacket up from his forearms and stared down at the intricate markings; felt the tingling there – the warmth and thought, perhaps He was here after all, and sighed with relief.

Noting his friend's strange reaction to him, Pete sat up straight. And before he could comment or even ask the obvious, he found himself wrapped in another bone crushing embrace. This time it was Noma who pulled him in and whispered in his ear, "Welcome back." She kissed his cheek hard and brief, and then brushed fringes of his hair back from his forehead.

She granted him with a rare smile that reached her eyes and made her look absolutely beautiful. He was drawn in by the radiance of her; and blushed under her scrutiny. Noma showing him such unguarded affection sort of worried him. Something horrible, then miraculous must have happened.

So he hugged her back; felt her relax and asked, "What happened? How did we get away?" For he remembered nothing beyond being strapped in a chair and praying that he would not forget his friends once possessed.

Noma sat close, held his hands, explained his repossession; their harrowing escape and the miracle of eviction in hushed even tones. Alex slid to the ground; his back scraping against the concrete wall and regarded his friends. He swiped the lone sliding tear from his face and resolved that these would be the last tears he shed until this war was over.

He was so very, very tired and for a moment, wished that Michael were here with him to tell him what to do. He clenched his jaw tight and rubbed the blood from his throbbing hand – the knuckles swelling right before his eyes. He forced his hand to close and formed a tight fist despite the discomfort. Michael wasn't here. Michael had left him. Did what he did best. Leave when he needed him most.

He felt his heart harden toward the archangel he loved as a father; ran his fingers through his hair and down his face. He pushed down on the swollen knuckles and felt the pain of it. He didn't need Michael. Noma was here, and Pete was back with him – these two were who he could trust and count on.

He tipped his head back – closed his eyes and breathed easily for the first time in hours. He listened contently to his friends talking and couldn't help but laugh softly every time he heard Pete exclaim, "Wow"; "for real?" or "you must be kidding".

Hearing their voices sent a surge of energy through him. They were battered and worn, but not broken. They had the amphora. They had the darkness – Julian's secret weapon. Here was their leverage - his way to kill Gabriel once and for all and end this bloody war.

He would make Julian help them.

* * *

Gabriel stood over the manhole a few miles from the compound of New Delphi and looked to his brother beside him. "This is our way in Michael", he said; kicking the eight ball who had stood guard away from the dusty entrance – his body limp – without life, his neck having been snapped in one powerful motion.

Michael scanned the area and nodded, seeing no other guards than the several they had already permanently relieved from their duties. They would not be causing any trouble for them, either going in or coming out. Michael sighed heavily. This was almost too easy, and it worried him.

Gabriel reached down to pull the cover open and asked, "What's your plan brother? How do you want to handle this?"

Michael gazed hard at Gabriel – saw the doubt there, and looked to the heavens – squinting against the harsh sunlight. "My plan is only to find Alex and get him out of there – nothing more."

Gabriel nodded and pulled up the cover and looked down into the dark abyss. "The ladder here leads down into the tunnels. We walk a few miles east and it goes straight to the market."

Michael reached for his brother and gripped his shoulder. "Before we head down, I want to ask something of you Gabriel."

Gabriel's eyebrows lifted and reached to his hairline. "You mean, other than helping you find Alex and not to kill him on sight?"

Michael ignored his brother's flippancy; held on fast, and spoke with care. "If something should happen to me, if…"

Gabriel removed his brother's hand from his shoulder; frowned deeply and interrupted before he could finish his thought. "Nothing's going to happen to you Michael. I'll make sure of that. So please, stop being such a pessimist."

He peered closely at his brother and noted that self-sacrificing look he carried so heroically and scowled. Once found, that sense of honor Michael brandied about like a shield grated on him profusely. He turned away to block out his brother's earnest look.

No matter what, no matter what atrocities he had committed – Michael still trusted him; and looked to him to fix things. It was a wonder to him; and annoyed him greatly.

"No truly Gabriel", Michael insisted, "I want you to promise me that you will watch over Alex – see to it the markings are deciphered and take care of him. It's what Father would want. And if you give your promise , I know it would be so."

Gabriel turned back, looked to his brother; laughed with a touch of sadness and shook his head. "No Michael. I won't promise that. I'd as soon kill Alex for what I want."

Michael sighed and placed his hands on his weapons there on his hips and caressed the gifts from his brother he held so dear. Gabriel looked to the sky and searched the heavens for what to say to put his brother at ease. For once they found the chosen one and got him out safely, all bets were off.

"What I will promise you brother, is that I will let nothing happen to you. Alex is your chosen one – not mine. I'll see to it you keep out of harm's way and together we will find him and bring him out."

He touched Michael's cheek; cupped it and gave a gentle slap – then grabbed for his neck. "That's all I can promise Michael."

Michael nodded in his grasp and held onto his arm – remembering when no man stood between them. "Fair enough", he said, smiling a little to show he understood.

Gabriel released his brother and clapped him on the back, "Then you go down first. When we get to the market, I'll go high – you low and we'll find that boy."

Michael climbed down; stopped and then looked up to his brother standing above him. "Thank you", he offered; turned his gaze quickly away and descended down into the bowels of New Delphi.

* * *

Alex startled and took in a shuddered breath. He must have dozed off for a moment, because when he opened his eyes, Noma sat to his right – the amphora clutched to her chest, and Pete to his left – watching him warily, fear etched on his face.

He reached over and squeezed Pete's knee – hoping that he conveyed a sense of confidence. Pete had been through a lot – they all had; and there was more hardship to come.

"What now?" Noma asked – her question bouncing off the concrete walls; sending vibrations of uncertainty up his spine. He touched the amphora held close to her breasts and proclaimed, "We confront Julian and make him help us kill Gabriel. We unleash this darkness on all of us or on Gabriel alone. It's his choice. Either way – this war ends." He searched her eyes and saw that she wanted to contradict him. Take the amphora – leave New Delphi and make their way back to Vega.

"This is our chance Nomes", he pleaded.

Noma looked down at the amphora, then back to Alex and searched his face – knowing that between them; only she could unleash the darkness. She saw that he still believed in his plan – still had faith it would work. She wasn't so sure. Julian had proven that he could not be trusted. She thought of what he had done to Pete and seethed with anger. He was a stealer of souls – there was no getting past that.

Though she was skeptical of the plan – she had faith in Alex. If he believed – then so would she.

"All right then", she announced – rising to her feet. "Let's get going." She held her hand out to him; he grasped it firmly and she pulled him to his feet. Pete stood with them, and put his hand over theirs – his lips thin with determination.

"Together then", Alex voiced – tightening his grip on Noma's hand. The three of them nodded to each other – giving a silent oath of solidarity. It was time to go.

* * *

Julian stood on the platform flanked by his ever present entourage; looked out over his small kingdom of New Delphi and fumed beneath his calm exterior. Lyrae bombarded his senses and demanded immediate action from him – to find the darkness – get it back at all costs. It was his only means of vengeance; his sole purpose in living.

Lyrae had waited centuries for this moment in time; and it would not be lost to him. The chosen one would lure Gabriel here for the markings; and where there was Gabriel – Michael would follow.

Julian attempted to clamp down on the rage – but Lyrae was too strong. He would consume him and have his way – so he let go and let the angel assume control – give orders; search New Delphi high and low for the amphora.

But the amphora was out of reach. The chosen one and his angel lost among the throng of human and possessed; Menathas taken for a purpose he didn't understand. Only General Riesen, weakened and sickly, stood here with him now – unwilling to tell where Alex had hidden himself.

Julian spun around looking through Lyrae's eyes and felt the angel's deep panic. He understood that kind of panic – had felt it for many years before Lyrae had found him, taken up residence within him and promised good health, eternal youth, and power amidst the ravaged and possessed.

Lyrae had saved his life, and given him everything.

He would do anything Lyrae wanted. He would lie, kill, torture; and lay waste to humanity. And above all kill the twin archangels.

When he turned again, there stood the object of his search – the chosen one – holding out the darkness- threatening to kill them all - with his angel and the curiously unpossessed boy at his side.

"Let me handle this", he cooed internally; and Lyare left him to it.

* * *

Thank you for reading. Please leave a review and let me know what you think! Also – thanks to those of you who have decided to follow or favorite this story. It is much appreciated.


	8. Chapter 8

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: This takes place during the episode Reap the Whirlwind. Alex, Noma and Pete escape New Delphi. Michael and Gabriel remain captive; and Lyrae appears on the verge of exacting revenge.

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Thank you so much for reading! I hope you will review and let me know what you think! Your thoughts and comments keep me going. Reviews are my lifeline!

* * *

Chapter Seven: Capture and Escape

Alex slammed the manhole cover down hard – letting gravity help pull its weight back to earth with a heavy thud. He held on tight to the handle – unable to let go, breathing hard – his heart racing; panicked with adrenaline.

He had left him behind. His father; his friend and protector – who had vowed to die for him if need be. Michael was trapped now, below ground in New Delphi – undergoing what horror by Julian's hand, he could not imagine.

Michael had practically pushed him up the ladder – sacrificed himself so that he might live to fight another day; to save Vega and give mankind a chance. He had wanted to stay. He should have stayed – dismissed Michael's pleas for his safety; fought at his side and have them come away together. His life meant nothing if the archangel was not at his side.

Alex pulled on the handle – ready to lift – ready to go back; retrieve his friend. They would then go on to Vega as a team, together; unstoppable. His mind raced with differing scenarios. He would leave Noma and Pete here at the opening to watch for eight balls; then head back down the ladder – get Michael and force him to come – go on with them to Vega. He would convince him that his life meant just as much, no more than his.

He couldn't leave him. Not now. Not now that they had found one another again.

They had just reunited – spoken words of forgiveness. They were back on the same page – save Vega; save humanity. Together they would decipher the markings. Together they would warn Vega of the impending onslaught of the eight ball army.

He couldn't go on without him. He needed him. There was no more denying it any longer. Michael was an integral part of his life and part of God's plan for him. One without the other was useless.

He had to go back.

"We have to go Alex", Noma hissed at his side; and his hand stayed. He looked up into her pleading countenance, and indecision warred in his heart. He could tell she was hurting badly – barely able to stand.

Pete was doing his best to hold her up on his own; her blood already saturating his hands; arm and the front of his clothes – her back a bloody mess; her wings gone.

Noma's sacrifice weighed heavy on him; and he turned from her – guilt a boiling pressure in his stomach. How could he ever look her in the eye again?

Alex pressed his eyes shut and swallowed down the lump forming in his throat. Why must he choose – he thought? Why couldn't they all be saved?

When he opened his eyes he found Pete staring at him with anticipation. His face pale and frightened; looking from side to side for hidden enemies in the trees flanking them. Noma hung onto Pete's shoulder and to the front of his shirt weakly, her eyes squinting with pain – her jaw set firmly.

These two – his loyal friends were counting on him to get them out of here.

He looked down again to the manhole and sent up a prayer that he would see Michael again; that he would forgive him – please forgive him for leaving him behind. He closed his eyes tight and asked God to look out for Michael – to save him – to reunite them soon. He had witnessed the power of the markings. Surely God was with him and would listen to his pleas.

When he opened them, Noma reached down to him – he let the handle go and grabbed her arm; placed it around his neck and led them away into the growing night.

He held onto her securely and steered them away from the unspeakable torture they had endured within the inner sanctum; away from General Riesen who was still down there, held captive; away from Gabriel – who deserved everything Julian could dish out and away from Michael.

"Which way?" Pete whispered – holding tight to Noma on the other side; fear rising in his throat – causing his voice to lift an octave. His knees shook from their near death flight from the underground compound; the only thing keeping him on his feet – the feel of Noma plastered to his side; and Alex's strength of will.

"Follow me", Alex whispered back; and proceeded into the tree line.

Noma groaned in pain between them; unable to coordinate her feet – content to let them drag her away – her ripped and torn back on fire. Her mind reeled with the fact that she was no longer a protector. She was now a burden – her strength ebbing slowly away; along with her identity.

She could hardly comprehend her new reality – one that had her weak, without God's gift of flight. If she survived the trauma – how was she to live like this? What was she now? Who was she?

When they reached the tress, Alex could hear in the distance, the manhole crash open and hit the earth. The hiss and growl of the eight balls erupted from underground – filing out like ants. He picked up the pace. He had to get them away.

He pulled Noma and Pete through the brush, feeling every burn on his body – his mind's eye reliving Noma pinned to the wall; ripping the wings from her back as she pulled away from the sanctum wall – to save him. In the corner of the inner sanctum, Pete lying crumpled and beaten on the floor – refusing to take part in Julian's cruel game of torture – his lips pressed tight to keep from talking; and Gabriel between all the horror – promising to kill Claire and destroy Vega if anything happened to Michael.

Alex shook the sickening images from his mind. He had to concentrate. He had to get them all to safety – find shelter; get a good look at Noma's back; and check on Pete.

If they didn't survive – it would have all been in vain. Michael would have been captured and tortured for nothing. They needed to get away, regroup and go back for him.

Once in the thickest part of the forest – he dropped down behind a fallen tree, dragging Noma and Pete down with him. He placed his finger to his lips – they nodded in understanding and lay still – trying to control their breathing so as not to be heard.

Alex's heart pounded so hard in his chest, he thought for sure the eight balls would hear and hone in on them. But they crashed around them – undisciplined; hurried and moved past them quickly – retreating further into the woods.

After some moments of relative quiet, Alex laid his head back on the dry bark, sighed deeply with relief and squeezed Noma's hand. It was clammy and wet; but she squeezed back – the pressure light and faint. Nothing like the strength she exhibited after crawling to his rescue and snapping away the chains from his wrist with intense power.

When he caught her eye, he could see she needed rest; but her jaw clenched firmly and her eyes blazed with determination. Without words, she was telling him that they could not stay here in this place much longer.

He leaned over and watched as Pete tried to regulate his breathing – his face swollen; blood trickling from his mouth; his eyes red from exhaustion – his lip split and the cut he had inflicted himself on his cheek was bleeding once again.

He leaned back and tried to think. Soon it would be pitch black. Maybe then they would go – try and find a place to hold up. If he remembered right – a town was nearby. A town meant homes; abandoned stores – maybe even supplies.

"We rest here", he croaked out to his friends; his mouth dry – his body aching for water.

Pete nodded and relaxed to the ground – curling up into a ball on his side; grabbing at his ribs – clearly in pain and in shock. Noma rubbed his shoulder and shuddered as her abused back reminded her that she had lost her distinctiveness – herself and was bleeding to death.

She would die soon if her wounds were not closed. She steeled herself and bit her lip to keep from crying. Her gift of flight from Father was gone. She turned and studied Alex's profile and reassured herself that it was worth it. He was worth it.

Alex was alive. It was her job to keep him safe; and here he was – still here to save humanity and lead mankind into the light.

She peered at him through the growing darkness and saw the worry and weariness etched on his face. He turned to her; and kissed her temple with tenderness. She could feel the warmth of him and her heart swelled.

There was so much to say. She did not want to die out here, not having declared her feelings for him.

Under her hand, she could feel Pete shivering and remembered with pride how he had held his tongue and kept secret the whereabouts of the amphora. They had hidden it together and swore to each other to not give away the hiding place.

She stroked his hair fondly and smiled. A warrior he was; and if he stuck with Alex – would survive this. She on the other hand….

She leaned against Alex; placed her ear at his chest and listened to the pounding of his heartbeat; and was resolved to speak her mind now – before it was too late.

Alex pulled her in closer and whispered down into her ear, "I will get us out of this mess Nomes. Please don't give up. Please don't leave."

She heard the desperation in his voice, so held her tongue and pressed closer – hoping to gain strength from his optimistic spirit. There was no give up in Alex. If there was a will – there was a way; and she knew no other person with the courage and fight of this man – the chosen one.

"Just rest for now", he urged, and fell silent, holding her tight.

* * *

Lyrae stood over his unconscious captive and enjoyed the rage emanating from Gabriel. The archangel practically howled at him; pulling at his restraints with little effect, and he laughed aloud at the absurdity of it. The once powerful Gabriel was now a puppet on a string.

He crossed his arms and looked down his nose; snorting for good effect – how far the mighty had fallen. Who was in charge now, he thought to himself.

Looking down at his feet, Michael lay crumpled and unresponsive. The archangel who had condemned him to complete darkness was now at his mercy. How powerful he felt; overwhelmed with a wicked kind of joy. This unexpected gift – after centuries of plotting; patience; and contained restraint was most welcomed. Good things come to those who wait, he surmised. And he had waited.

All those hundreds of years – damned to the outer sphere would soon be rectified.

His revenge was near at hand; so close to fruition he could taste it. Julian had come through as he had promised all those years ago; kept his side of the bargain – built him an army; and imprisoned his enemies. Now it was his turn.

He kicked Michael for good measure and watched the hatred transform Gabriel into a protective lion.

He would break the archangel – for before him was the Achilles heel – the twin. He would break Gabriel – take his body; kill Michael; rule this world and Father's imperfect treasures.

All he needed now was the amphora and perhaps the markings of the chosen one as well; the power there unlike anything he had ever witnessed.

Lyare sneered down at Michael and remembered that precise moment when he was demoted; sent down into the ether world to roam in darkness without form. The humiliation never left him; the betrayal of it still stung – and after all this time, left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He had loved Michael. Worshiped the ground he walked on. He had followed Michael through hell and back without complaint. Followed his every order, and basked in his glory. He had loved him more than he loved Father.

He looked over to Gabriel chained to the wall; and let his smile spread slowly to his eyes. Michael would suffer for what he had done; and it would be at the hands of his own brother.

He snarled at Gabriel; languidly crouched low over his lifeless prisoner; caressed his neck and chuckled from deep in his throat – "Whose in control now archangel?" he cooed, and stood to his feet.

Lyare turned on his heels and walked away, imploring Julian to ready his army, and find the amphora.

Gabriel screamed at Lyare's retreating form, "We'll see Lyare!" - And when the door closed – yelled for his brother.

* * *

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you are enjoying the story so far; and would love to hear what your thoughts are. I have tried to write the hidden thoughts of the characters and to bring to light some of the hidden moments in the episode. I hope it has been successful so far. Thanks!


	9. Chapter 9

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

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Summary: This takes place during the episode Reap the Whirlwind. Alex, Noma and Pete escape New Delphi. Michael and Gabriel remain captive; and Lyrae appears on the verge of exacting revenge.

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Thank you so much for reading! And thanks to those of you who are following or have favorited. I hope you will review and let me know what you think! Your thoughts and comments mean a great deal and encourage me to continue. Remember, reviews are my friend!

* * *

Chapter Nine: Capture and Escape to Where?

Alex sat up with a start – Gabriel's voice ringing in his ears to "run, find Michael and get him out". He rubbed his face trying to regain his wits and his bearings. Where was he, what had he done; and why was Gabriel screaming at him?

The darkness around him engulfed his senses; and for a moment he was lost – part of him still dreaming. But then reality crashed through; he curled his shoulders inward in defeat and remembered. Michael wasn't here. He was back in New Delphi at the mercy of Lyrae; and it was his fault. Gabriel would make good on his promise to kill Claire and destroy Vega if Michael were not to survive. His only hope was that Lyrae hated Gabriel more than he did; and would rid the world of him before it was too late.

He drove the heels of his palms into his eye sockets and pressed hard, causing bright lights to flash behind his eyelids. Maybe this was all a terrible nightmare; and soon he would wake up. When he opened his eyes he would no longer be hunkered down in the woods hiding from eight balls; with Noma bleeding out at his side and Pete exhausted from torture.

Instead he would be home in Vega, with Michael at his side; back with the Archangel Core dispensing justice; protecting the home front with his Noma – her wings as they once were; powerful and ready to defend. He would be with Claire – contented in the coming birth of a healthy child; his child – and thinking of all the ways he could be a good father. He would gather among his fellow friends and soldiers; fight the good fight and defeat Gabriel. When he opened his eyes, life would be as it should be. The burden of the chosen one revoked and taken from his person – his skin clear and smooth as it once was.

But when he lifted his hands away; what he saw was trees; dirt – and Pete sitting up beside him wide awake; staring at him with a worried expression.

Alex turned away from the expectant look and scanned the area; and saw that the night was now an inky black. A few hours must have passed; because the weariness deep in his bones had subsided a bit; and his legs no longer tingled with fatigue. Only his heart ached for Noma's sacrifice; Michael's surrender and his abject failure at keeping them all safe.

The crickets chirped to each other and heavy cloud cover gave their surroundings a hazy; other-world atmosphere. It was hard to see in the distance; but he heard nothing unusual and looked back toward his friend.

He shivered from the cool dampness of the ground; and felt Noma lying heavy against him; her ear pressed to his chest – her arm across his waist – protecting him in her sleep. He whispered over her head to Pete, "Why didn't you wake me?"

"You both were tired; and you said we should rest." Pete turned away then and gazed out into the dark woods; his body tense – on alert.

Alex frowned and asked, "How about you? Did you rest?"

Pete turned back to his friend, and Alex noted the shuttered look that came over him – hiding his true emotions no doubt. "I'm fine", he said – instead of answering the question; his mind on all that Noma had lost, and his part in it.

Alex nodded and listened, straining to hear beyond the mist.

"I haven't heard any of the eight balls in a while", Pete continued, "I thought it was safe to stay and let you two sleep."

Alex smiled gratefully at his friend, "Thanks Pete – we did need the rest, but I think now is the time to go." He shook Noma's shoulder and she gasped instantly awake – crying out briefly as her back flared and she remembered where she was.

She felt her wings flutter nervously beneath the fold – but then painfully recalled that they were still pinned to the wall back in New Delphi. What she was feeling now wasn't real. It was a phantom, an apparition – tricking her into believing she was still whole; still her – an angel.

She pushed the specter of her wings aside, and let the soldier in her take hold. She knew the time for rest was over. They had to leave this place, before the eight balls doubled back.

"We need to go now Nomes", Alex urged softly, moving from beneath her warmth and standing to his feet. Pete followed his lead and together they reached down for her; bringing her up gently to stand between them.

She swayed; shook the cobwebs of pain and torture from her thoughts; leaned into their strength and together they headed deeper into the woods.

* * *

Michael woke to pain erupting at the base of his skull that traveled through his brain and pierced the back of his eyeballs. Instantly he felt his throat constrict and attempted to swallow down the feeling of a volcano about to erupt from his stomach.

A familiar voice urged soothingly to him from somewhere above and he groaned – anticipating sickness, as bile rose up in his throat.

He was rarely sick, and could not remember the last time he felt so disoriented and nauseous.

He rolled over, turned to the side and vomited – feeling the pull of it at his bruised ribs and down his battered back. His folded wings felt constricted and he wondered briefly at the confinement.

When he opened his eyes, he squint through the harsh overhead lighting and could see his brother chained to the wall – his face bloodied and frowning with concern. What was Gabriel doing here? Hadn't he sliced his tendon to keep him safe – to have him leave this place to protect him; and keep him away from Alex? And where was Alex?

He shut his eyes; groaned – and felt the pounding in his head beat in time with his erratic heartbeat. He promptly threw up again – and could taste the bile as it tickled his throat and made him cough up the remaining sickness pooling in his mouth.

Gabriel called to him anxiously; but the haze that wrapped itself around his brain was too thick and he could not separate himself from it. Michael rolled to his back, looked perplexed at his bound hands; and let the darkness pull him back down to peaceful oblivion. And there in the darkness – he dreamed of Alex running for his life without him there to protect him; and Laurel screaming for him to come back to Mallory.

Gabriel sighed and swore aloud to visit unspeakable pain on Alex and all those he loved. He pulled at his restraints, but the empyrean steel held fast; and gave him no leverage. He could not help his brother – pull him away from his own sickness or prevent the inevitable pain he was soon to suffer at the hands of Lyrae. Lyrae, mad and drunk with his perceived power.

Michael's wrists were already bound and shackled with empyrean steel – his wings pinned; his body weak from abuse. He shook with helpless rage and yelled from deep in his belly with a crazed fury. No one was allowed to reek havoc upon his brother but him.

Hadn't he commanded Alex to run – to get the markings safely away – to save Michael? Whatever happened next was obviously Alex's doing and he would pay dearly. And Lyrae would answer with his life.

Gabriel gave one last tug of frustration on his restraints – fell to his knees and reluctantly resolved to wait for his brother to regain consciousness once again. They would then devise a plan that would get Michael out of here.

But he wasn't going anywhere. He would stay in the bowels of this cursed underground city and bring Lyrae to his knees.

* * *

The trek through the woods was slow; and without a flashlight; weapons or food – incredibly treacherous. The three tripped over exposed roots and their own feet; exhaustion, hunger and thirst heavy throughout their limbs; but they clung to each other with determined purpose.

Alex could feel the initial surge of adrenaline from Noma waning – loss of blood weakening her resolve. He could feel her trembling beneath his touch and inwardly feared she would not make it.

The rag Michael had taped to her back; those many hours ago in New Delphi, to stem the flow of blood had long since soaked through. If they didn't find shelter soon…..

He squeezed her tight about the shoulders and felt her reciprocate. He could not lose her. To lose Noma, would possibly destroy him.

Suddenly, as they entered a small grove of fallen trees, Pete came to a complete stop – halting them all in their tracks. Noma leaned into Alex and sighed with what sounded like relief.

"We can't keep this up", Pete voiced – pulling from beneath Noma's arm and facing Alex. "I'm going to go ahead and look for some place for us to shelter." He turned to go, not waiting for a reply to his announcement.

Alex took Noma's full weight; but reached out and snagged Pete's shirt from behind – pulling him back towards them.

"No", he grit through clenched teeth – holding tight to the fabric, "we stay together. There is no way I'm letting you go on alone."

Pete turned back to his friends and frowned in frustration. "Noma needs to rest Alex. She needs to be looked after or she will die." He looked down at his feet, searching his tired and numb mind for an argument that would sway Alex to his way of thinking – but he could come up with nothing.

Only his gut telling him that he could do this thing; they had saved him – and now it was his turn.

"I trust you Alex, now please trust me." He stared down Alex's grim determination and then turned to Noma – whose knees began to buckle. He could feel Alex's grip, tight in his shirt and made up his mind.

Pete yanked from Alex's grasp. "I will find shelter", he said with confidence. "Stay here. When I find something, I'll be back for you." He turned and ran swiftly away – not waiting to argue.

Alex called out to the wind, "Pete!" but at that moment Noma lost all sense of space and time; tilted and made a slow descent to the earth – taking Alex down with her. He fell to the soft earth, held Noma in his arms; and watched Pete dart away – sending up a brief prayer for God to protect him.

* * *

Pete ran with all the strength he could muster. It had been a good hour since he had left Alex and Noma back at the grove and hoped soon he would find somewhere for them to safely stay.

As he ran, his mind fell on the horror they had barely escaped back in New Delphi. Noma had saved them all. In his mind's eye he could still see and hear her ripping the wings from her back. He would never forget her sacrifice – her screams echoed in his brain, even now; and followed him relentlessly through the woods.

He stopped briefly and leaned against a tree – pulling in gulps of air – trying to rein in his heart beat; the thud of it pounding through his chest – making his sore ribs hurt the more.

He rubbed the sweat from his face – pushed off from the tree and continued on. With each step he could hear Julian screaming for him to tell the location of the amphora; and for every denial he made, the sizzle of Alex's skin burned beneath a hot iron. The smell of burning flesh would stay with him for as long as he lived.

He put his hands to his ears to block out the memory of Alex calling to him; telling him to keep still – not to reveal the location; that he was okay. "The markings don't matter!" he had yelled to him through the torture and over Gabriel's pleas for Julian to not destroy their Father's message.

When he had tried to move toward him; to try and help – he had been beaten back and forced to watch as Julian singed the markings away; and Noma being lifted and pinned to the wall. It would forever be his fault that God's words were destroyed; and that Noma had lost her wings. He had to make up for it.

His legs and lungs stung with exertion now; and the beating he had endured at the hands of the possessed was beginning to take its toll. He had to find something soon.

Then, as luck would have it, there before him was a break in the trees and to his right a dilapidated truck stood alone, oddly statuesque in an unkempt yard, overrun with weeds and brush.

He stopped; knelt down behind the car; grabbed a discarded tire iron beside the wheel; and took stock of the area. All seemed quiet. Only the faint rustle of leaves and the buzzing of insects gave off any noise that carried to him in the light breeze.

He moved forward carefully; and then there before him was a little house – dark – with the front door slightly ajar. He crept toward the door; pushed it open – entered and then unexpectedly was tackled about his waist and pushed to the ground.

"My home", the eight ball hissed in his ear; his black eyes wild - teeth bared with dripping saliva; and penned his shoulders to the ground. Pete gripped the tire iron tight in his hand, overwhelmed with fear and prayed he had the strength to fight for his life.

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Thanks so much for reading. Hope you liked it! Please review and let me know what you think.


	10. Chapter 10

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

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Summary: This takes place during the episode Lay Thee Before Kings. Alex, Noma and Pete escape New Delphi. Michael and Gabriel remain captive – but on the verge of freedom; and Lyrae's warped sense of revenge takes a toll.

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Thank you so much for reading! Thanks to those of you who are following or have favorited this story; I hope you are enjoying this. Please send a review and let me know what you think! Your thoughts and comments mean a great deal and encourage me to continue.

* * *

Chapter Ten: Capture and Escape to Sanctuary Part II

Pete felt the weight of the eight ball on top of him like a ton of bricks. He let loose the tire iron, and pushed his hands into the frenzied being's chest and extended his elbows to hold the wild creature at arm's length. His arms; shoulders and back shook with the effort; and his fingers ached as they grabbed at fabric and flesh.

The eight ball screeched over him and spittle flew down onto his cheek. He winced and attempted to look away as the saliva dripped down on him like rain. He could feel the floor boards underneath give to their combined weight, and splinters dug painfully into his back. He thought for a moment, he would die here – now – alone – in this house; with Alex and Noma waiting for him back in the woods – the chosen one and his faithful warrior left to die.

But adrenaline took over his maudlin thoughts of death and concluded that he would die, yes – but it wouldn't be today. He had survived much already – torture, two possessions and flight from the crazed Lyrae. This was not to be the end. He would not give up. He would not let Alex down.

So he let go one hand; reached for the tire iron at his side; struck the eight ball on the side of his temple with all the spent strength he could gather.

The eight ball's head snapped to the side from the blow – but it did not have the desired effect of getting the thing from atop him. Instead it slowly turned his head back to him; leaned down into his face and hissed with laced hatred once more – "This is my home."

It then swiftly stood to his feet – grabbed Pete by his collar and brought him up with him. The eight ball shook him mercilessly; and lifted him overhead like a small child. Out of necessity, he reached down and grabbed a hold of its writs and held on for dear life; his feet dangling in the air.

As he reached to hold on, Pete felt his hand lose grip on the tire iron once again; heard it thud to the wooden floor – and then he was flying through the air.

When he hit the wall of the little home – he could feel air whoosh from his lungs; and see stars dancing through the gloom of the living room. He grabbed at his chest; slid to the ground and tried to bring in much needed air – to get to his feet; retrieve his weapon and tackle the eight ball.

He knew – the fight for this house was one to the death.

* * *

Noma rested against Alex's chest and could hear the strong beat of his heart and felt the tension in his body. She knew he was worried about Michael – held captive back in New Delphi – and for Pete; looking now for somewhere safe for them to hole up.

All around them now was only quiet – except for the noises the forest makes at night- owls hooting, insects chirping; and small animals rustling through the brush beneath them.

"He's going to be alright you know", she voiced. "Pete's a resourceful kid; and a survivor."

"And stubborn", he countered – remembering how Pete pulled away from his grasp and took off before he could talk him out of his fool hardy plan. He hugged Noma closer to his side; and hoped that plan would work. He had prayed to God for Pete's safe return, and prayed now that he would be answered in the affirmative.

"Sound like anybody you know?" she asked – trying to lighten the moment and bring some levity to their situation.

"You, I think." he volleyed back and laughed a little – despite their circumstances. He watched her smile slightly up at him; and his heart fluttered at how beautiful she was. He touched the side of her face, and thought to kiss her.

He frowned at his audacity; dismissed such thoughts from his mind, and brought himself back to reality.

Pete was brave. He could see that now. But what would he do if he died because of him. Like Noma – he couldn't lose him. Not now. Not after evicting angels from his body and watching him come back to life. Pete was his responsibility. They should have gone on together; just as he should have stayed and fought at Michael's side.

But looking down at Noma, he knew Pete and Michael were both right. Noma couldn't have taken another step; and would never have made it this far if he had stayed behind. She would have bled out; and then what?

Noma slapped his chest lightly in mock surprise at his comment with regard to her stubbornness; and winced as her back stung without warning at the pain of her injury – white noise muted the night noises around her; and bright light pricked at the edges of her vision. The pain was intense and caught her off guard.

She could feel the blood running down her back; wondered at how much longer she could last this way; and breathed through the pain. She hoped the moment of weakness had gone unnoticed by Alex.

But he heard her gasp anyway; held on to her tighter; and helped her ride through it – rocking her back and forth; speaking soft words she couldn't understand.

When her senses returned, she heard him whispering in her ear, "I'm here Nomes – just hold on."

* * *

The first thing Michael noticed upon regaining consciousness – besides the pain that lanced through his head – was the love in his brother's eyes.

He groaned; surveyed his surroundings and found himself bound and tethered to a chair – his brother watching him anxiously.

It seemed they were in dire straits together once again. He examined the contraption they were connected to and it looked menacing to his eye. Empyrean steel laced through his bonds; wires hung overhead - and a pole stood between them. This did not bode well.

Lyrae's true madness was evident here – in this what, game of torture?

How were they to escape this? He needed to get away – back to Alex; look after him, make sure he was safe. Help him save Vega; and save humanity. He struggled against his bonds and when they would not give; gave up and looked once again to his older brother for ideas. Gabriel always knew what to do - how to extricate himself from impossible situations. He could always depend on him to think of a way out of any problem.

He would save them now.

Gabriel watched his brother carefully as he summed things up in his mind. He was now more determined than ever to get his brother out of here. That look to him for help was all it took for his protective instincts to kick in.

Lyrae had been here earlier – goading and leering with insanity. Too long part human had warped his revenge into playing games; inflicting pain. Well – he could play that game too.

He had come to a decision while his brother lay unconscious. He would save Michael – thus saving Alex and Father's message, and kill Lyrae without impunity. He would find the amphora and destroy Vega. He would win this war – and bring his Father back.

Michael wouldn't like his still unformed plan, but that's the way it would be.

* * *

Pete sat still on his bottom, against the wall and willed himself to breath; to move – to do anything to defend himself; and fight. However, the will in him was depleted, and he couldn't budge; air constricted in his lungs and his legs were like rubber.

He looked to the eight ball bearing down on him and thought of his friends. They would wonder what happened to him; why he had disappeared and not come back – he had failed them.

Pete closed his eyes and waited for the painful end; wondering if it would hurt more to die this way than to be taken over by an angel.

But the end didn't come. Through his closed lids, he saw a flash of light and felt heat on his skin. When he opened his eyes – the eight ball before him was engulfed in flames – screaming – twisting and turning in agony – running out the door and into the dusty, disheveled yard – illuminating the night.

He gulped in an agonizing breath and gingerly made it to his feet – every bone and muscle in his body aching. He followed the eight ball to the door – held tightly onto his chest; and watched as it burned to ash.

He rubbed his eyes, unclear as to what he just witnessed. What was this? What just happened? He had been saved again, but by what – by whom? Was there some higher power at hand here? By all rights – he should have been beaten to death and left to rot.

Pete took a tentative look out into the yard – and there out on the perimeter – near the trees stood a dark silhouette of someone – a man? A man out there in the darkness watching him – with a large hat on his head; hands on his hips.

Pete squint his eyes to see better, but it was too dark and the stars gave him little assistance.

He shook his head and the silhouette was gone – vanished; as if it had never been there.

Was he hallucinating?

He looked down at the ground and saw no sign of the eight ball in the black ink of night. That must be it. He was beyond tired; his body was battered; and his mind was foggy from little sleep and no food or water.

What he needed to do was to go back for his friends – tell them he found shelter and lead them here to safety.

Pete ran to the well in the yard and heaved on the rope that led down into its depths; felt the heavy pull of a bucket and hoped he would find water. When he got the bucket to the top of the well, he thanked God for answering his prayers and drank as much as he could from his cupped hands and poured the rest over his head – sputtering with joy.

Someone was looking out for him, and he was grateful.

Somewhat revived – he took off running; back toward Alex and Noma – glad his mission to find shelter was a success; and glad he still lived to fight another day.

* * *

Thanks for reading. I hope you are enjoying my interpretation of these season two Dominion episodes with Pete being human! Please let me know what you think.


	11. Chapter 11

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: This takes place during the episode Lay Thee Before Kings. Alex, Noma and Pete escape New Delphi and find sanctuary. Michael flees torture with the help of his brother, but Gabriel remains a captive intent on revenge!

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Protect and Follow Chapter 11: Rest

Alex gazed up at the stars and wondered at the markings tattooed on his body; their hidden message of doom for Vega plaguing him with guilt and remorse. If only he had been able to decipher their meaning sooner – Noma's sacrifice could have been avoided. The impending army of eight balls ready to strike Vega at its core could have been thwarted.

If only he had trusted Michael, not turned away – not been so stubborn and tried to do things on his own; maybe everything would be different.

Instead he waited here in the woods for Pete to return – with his most trusted friend injured beyond repair; praying she would not die tonight in his arms. His hopes to save her; to save Michael – to save Claire and his unborn child, diminished as each moment passed.

He just wanted to weep. To curl in on himself; and give into the grief his weakness of character caused him. Noma's loss was his doing; and could never be repaid.

He looked pensively down at Noma; who lay in his arms out here in the damp elements – her breathing uneven and her brow creased in pain. He touched her hair and smoothed out the curls forming across her forehead and then laid his hand gently across her shoulders.

Suddenly he felt a pain stab his heart and gasped. He clutched with his free hand at his jacket; and pulled it away from his chest – breathed in a harsh breath – and when the pain eased and left him; he sensed such a deep, resounding loss.

He took his hand from his chest and brought Noma in close – uncertain as to what just took place; why his heart hurt so; and what this pang of loss meant.

When he scanned the area where they rested; all he could see about him in the dark were the willow trees; limbs bent heavy under some terrible weight– as if sensing his emotions and weeping for him.

And in that moment, Pete crashed through the trees – breaking the all-around silence; and stood before him, smiling in the moonlight – his eyes as bright as any star out on this black night.

Alex had not expected such a brash entrance and frowned at the approach of his friend – the noise not bothering him one bit. But then he saw the pleased look on Pete's face, and hope flared in his chest where loss had left a void.

Noma moaned and moved to sit up – having heard the commotion. She peered up at Pete and felt his good news before he even spoke. She held out her hand to him; grabbed his arm, and pulled him down in the dirt beside them.

"I've found some place to rest", Pete breathed out heavily and looked to each of his friends with eagerness. Alex gripped his shoulder and then cupped his cheek with fond gratitude.

Pete jumped swiftly to his feet, "Now follow me", he urged – and reached a hand down for Noma to help her stand.

Together the three held onto each other; and steadily followed Pete's lead away to safety.

* * *

Gabriel stared across at his brother and could see that the torture inflicted on them was taking a toll. Michael looked pale and small – and the beating he had endured earlier was evident in the way he held himself; and took in short painful breaths.

After Lyrae's manic visit of spewed hatreds; whined wrongs and droned explanations of his plan of electrical torture and body snatching – Gabriel decided to rethink his plan. The dyad had blessedly left them alone and now he could reconsider and change his course of action.

He regarded his brother openly with affection and knew he loved him beyond his own life – always had. They saw things differently – but he could bear to see him tortured no longer. Michael was not only their Father's favorite; but his as well. Michael, his beloved twin, who he loved, above all of his brothers and sisters – who he would save from this wretched place; no matter what it, took on his part.

He, himself was no longer worthy. His single minded focus to bring Father back at all costs had turned him into as much of a monster as Lyrae.

Gabriel took the sparking pole into his hands and felt the electricity jolt through his body; and instead of pain, the shock of it gave him clarity. He watched as Michael bowed his head- sweat dripping from his brow; flowing down his neck and pooling at its hollow point.

Father must return. And if anyone could do it – Michael could.

He smiled then at his beautiful little brother, who seemed ready to die here with him – for what? He would not let him give up his life here this day – or be possessed by Lyrae and used – violated for revenge.

So, here was his chance. He would act now. Perhaps Alex would be Michael's stone to bring Father back – as David had been his. The stain on his heart still there from the boy's murder – which time had not healed; would never heal.

Gabriel set his jaw in determination, and placed his walls back in place to hide the past. Lyrae setting the electricity voltage higher, played right into their hands.

Gabriel held on tight to the sizzling live wire above his head; kicked his brother away and let the electricity flow through the steel into his body and watched as Michael held up his bonds and let the energy release him.

Michael fought in magnificent, fluid motions as the eight ball guards flowed into the room to contain him. He watched through a haze of unspeakable pain as Michael killed them all - his face like placid stone, and then came to release him.

This wasn't part of his plan.

As Michael lifted him from the ground – his legs weak, unable to hold him up – he knew what he must do. If his brother would not let him go, then he had to do it for him.

As his brother dragged him to the open door for escape – he dropped from his grip; pulled the pins restricting his power and pushed him through to the other side and slammed the door shut; locking it securely.

He could hear him screaming; and pounding on the door, "Brother – don't do this!" The anguish there pierced his heart; but he sighed in relief; and knew Michael was too weak to break down the door.

He fell to the floor willingly, unconscious – letting go – knowing his brother was now safe, and he would get his chance at Lyrae.

Michael pounded the closed cast iron door first with his fists, and then unfurled his wings to give it more weight. He could not leave him. Gabriel had entered New Delphi to help him find Alex and retrieve the markings.

Now, because of him he would be tortured to the brink, in order for Lyrae to steal his body and wreak havoc as an archangel.

Michael stopped his pounding, exhausted, and laid his head against the cool metal of the door and prayed for guidance. If he stayed, Gabriel's sacrifice for him would have meant nothing. It was his brother's wish for him to find Alex, decipher the markings and bring Father back.

"I'll do it Gabriel", he cried out in anguish through the door. "I will bring Father back", and ran to escape New Delphi – his heart heavy, but his purpose renewed.

He would go find Alex now, and together they would head back to warn Vega.

* * *

Alex woke to sunlight streaming into half covered windows.

He felt Noma's weight beside him on the dust covered couch and stretched his limbs subtly, as to not wake her. He pushed his head back to the arm of the couch and looked up at the peeling and cracked ceiling.

He rubbed his red rimmed eyes; looked around the living room slowly and took in the family portrait hanging on the far wall. This had been someone's home. Children had been raised here; furniture dusted – the lawn watered and cared for.

He sighed heavily and covered his eyes to keep from seeing the family in the portrait, who were all probably long dead or possessed.

They had made it here sometime in the night – slow and steady – but were here now, under cover – out of the elements and safe for the moment. Pete had brought in a bucket of water from the well, and they had carefully removed Noma's coat; and t-shirt to clean her open wounds.

She had grit her teeth, held onto Pete with a tight grip and never cried out as he swiped away the blood and dirt. When he had finished, she collapsed on the sofa where she lay now at his side.

He placed his chin atop Noma's head; pulled her in and reveled that she breathed steadily. He peered from beneath his arm, and there Pete slept on the floor among tattered blankets and a thin pillow he found in one of the bedrooms.

He scrutinized Pete in his sleep and smiled slightly. He had done this thing – saved their lives and he was beyond grateful. Seeing him appear; crashing loudly from beyond the willow trees, last night with that cocky grin was a Godsend.

Like Noma said – Pete was definitely a warrior; stubborn as a mule, and would go down fighting.

He caressed Noma's shoulder and kissed her hair.

Now a decision had to be made. He would let Noma rest here, and he and Pete would venture out and find needed supplies to help her. She would protest for sure – but there was no other way. She had barely made it here and during the night he knew she dreamed of heaven as she called out to her Father to restore her gift of flight so that she could return home.

A search of the house earlier – had shown that nothing of worth was left here. They would have to find needle, thread, and bandages – soon.

He hoped Noma would be safe here alone. She was too tired and weak from blood loss to go on. He kissed her again and settled back down; snuggling her close to his body.

Another hour and he would wake them. Right now, they all needed the break from running for their lives. Besides, it felt good to be here, lying next to her – the heat from her body giving him strength.

Suddenly he felt movement on his forearms from beneath his jacket – and lifted his arms from around Noma to pull up his sleeves and watch in fascination as the markings shifted positions. They were trying to tell him something – but what?

He wished in that moment that Michael was here now, to help him understand; guide him and get them out of this mess he had unwittingly engineered. They were meant to work together. The two of them would read the markings and save humanity as a team.

He lowered his arms carefully to hold Noma once again, and thought briefly on Claire and wondered how she and his unborn child fared. Was she well? Did the child thrive within her body?

He looked down at Noma and knew he loved her. What did he now feel for Claire? Did he love her also? Who was she now to him other than the mother of his child? He felt different somehow – not that angry, scared boy who had fallen for the Lady of Vega.

He was someone else now. He was committed to being the chosen one; committed to mankind.

He frowned, and watched as Pete moaned in his sleep and turned to face the wall – dreaming no doubt of possession and death.

Not now – he thought. He could not think on it now. It was all so much, and he just wanted to rest.

So he closed his eyes and forced himself to relax. Just one more hour, he pleaded with himself. In one hour, he would wake the others. Then he and Pete would find what they needed to keep Noma alive.

* * *

Thanks so much for reading! Please leave a review to let me know what you think. Your thoughts and comments help encourage me to continue!


	12. Chapter 12

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: This chapter takes place during the episodes Lay Thee Before Kings, The Longest Mile Home, and The Seed of Evil. Alex, Noma and Pete escape New Delphi and find sanctuary. Noma meets an emissary and unknowingly makes a decision with lasting consequences. Michael flees torture and searches for Alex, and Gabriel remains a captive of Julian/Lyrae intent on revenge of his own but faces a challenge that may change him forever.

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Thank you to guest reader who recently sent in a review for your kind words and comments to this story. You have jumpstarted this chapter and I hope everyone reading enjoys it. Thank you for reading.

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Chapter 12: Decisions

Noma stood in a field of green grass sprinkled with white, purple, and pink lilacs. The beauty of it all filled her heart, and she twirled with innocent delight. She let her hair loose from her pony tail and felt the weight of it lay heavy on her shoulders and down her back. She spread her arms apart and as she turned with balletic grace, unfurled her wings and laughed out loud with open joy.

She curled her magnificence in; hugged herself and felt the comfort of her power surround and insulate her. Nothing could hurt her or penetrate the protective strength they provided. These were her gift from God. She caressed their smooth, feathery softness and knew with certainty that one day; they would carry her home – amongst the blue – straight to heaven.

Noma smiled down with love at her greatest asset, and then lifted her face to the sky – where the bright sun glistened; puffy white clouds drifted peacefully; and a small flock of birds spoke to one another and flew in formation toward some unknown destination. She smiled as they dove; climbed over treetops; and pressed in close together to ride the wind.

The slight breeze lifted the hair from her shoulders and promised a true bearing. She closed her eyes, breathed in the scent of God's wondrous earth, and ascended slowly upward from the ground to join those also gifted with flight. The grass swayed beneath her as she pulled away from gravity with ease.

As she shifted her wings to a course and rose higher and higher – the breeze became a strong wind and hit her face with breathtaking force. Noma laughed from her belly; kissed a thin cloud and traveled within its vaporous veil.

Once there, she hovered in the foggy coolness and reveled at the mist as it swept droplets against her warm skin and provided a soothing balm to all of her troubles, sorrows and regrets. She lingered there and felt the presence of her Father, and was glad.

This was who she was – what she was meant to be – created to span this earth in moments; to possess unimaginable strength; and to do Father's bidding. She was an angel above everything – above her allegiances; loyalties and love.

Noma pushed from the cloud and surveyed the ground below. This is where she felt alive – up here among the clouds; among the feathered beasts – close to the sun where she could feel the warmth of it up close.

There was no doubt that she loved Alex; had sworn to protect him – but this – this was her calling; what she needed. This here – flight – she could not live without.

Noma continued her upward journey in unwavering bliss and unprecedented rapture. There was no emotion, no relationship, no event that could match this complete and utter feeling of ecstasy and wonder.

Suddenly, without warning, the sky turned a harsh purple and the sun dimmed behind blackened clouds. She spread her wings to still her ascent and took stock of her surroundings. Was the weather taking a turn for the worse? She had known many a storm to rise up and catch her unawares.

But then she noticed her feathers floating away from her one by one and felt herself drop altitude in degrees – bit by bit. She reached out to gather her prized possessions back to her, but they disintegrated in her grasp and turned to ash – filtering between her fingers and gliding away.

Her mind screamed with panic. What was this? What was happening?

And then her wings, her essence was gone. Her reason for living – vanished into thin air. Noma looked to her back, and they were no more. As realization hit her, she plummeted to earth and could not slow her descent. The weight of gravity pulled her down and the enormity of her loss saw the ground rising up to meet her.

When she hit the unyielding earth, the pain of it jolted through every limb and organ of her body until it pierced her heart. Lying on her back, staring up to the sky – she cried out in horror and disbelief. Tears streamed down her face and her body racked with sobs.

Father was punishing her – bringing her low – berating her for decisions made long ago. She thought she had redeemed herself; given herself over to the cause of mankind – but now – this would seem to be her penance.

Noma pulled at her hair; yelled up to the heavens for her Father to forgive her – bring her home and she would prove her worth. She waited and only silence met her pleas for mercy.

The sky still bathed in that ominous purple – blotted out the sun and promised a murderous storm – which matched the turmoil rising up in her soul.

Noma gave up on her appeals for grace, closed her eyes; curled into herself and wept bitterly for her forfeiture. She hugged her body hard, wishing for the soothing comfort of her beautiful, beautiful wings.

"What's this then?" a gentle voice called out to her. "Is this our Noma regretting her sacrifice?"

Noma pushed herself to her elbows and there before her stood a tall man with chaps, cowboy boots and spurs. His skin was dark and he held his hands at his hips where his pistols lay resting in their holsters ready to draw. His long duster coat flapped behind him in the brisk wind and atop his head a large gallon hat sat undisturbed by the force of it.

The dark man looked down at her and smiled sweetly with rows of perfect teeth, and crinkles around his eyes. "What is it that you need Noma?" he asked earnestly. "What is it I can give you to stop you from weeping?"

Noma brushed the tears from her eyes and watched the man warily – uncertain. What was he doing out here in this field of lilacs? Was this a dream? Was the purple haze of the sky a reality? Were her wings still at her back?

Noma reached back – but felt nothing there. They were truly gone.

"What is you want Noma?" the man hissed down at her – his smile now gone – replaced with a stare so intense it frightened her. "I have it on good authority that whatever you desire, I can make it come true", he cooed like silk. Noma stared back into his cold unwavering eyes and then turned away quickly; afraid of her reaction – her need to be whole again.

When she turned back to him for hope - he was gone.

She looked frantically about, but he was nowhere to be seen. "I will do anything to have them", she screamed – wishing him to return – but when she hoped he would reappear all she saw was Alex sleeping at her side on the couch; Pete on the floor facing the wall wrapped in a dirty blanket and the small dingy living room with a portrait of a family long dead, looking at her from the wall with smiles on their faces.

She took a deep breath, pressed a hand to her mouth; and held back a startled cry. So a dream it was, she thought; and stood silently to her feet – wiping at her cheeks where tears trailed from her eyes. And now she must live this nightmare.

She was no more an angel and not even human. What was she then?

Noma felt the pain of her loss and grimaced. She looked down at Alex, and felt a swell of love surround her heart. For twenty-five years of her life he had been everything. Her mission had been to protect him at all cost. Recently it had encompassed to truly love him as a partner; companion and lover.

She believed he was the one. He would lead all of mankind and angels alike to peace on earth.

She felt the phantom flutter at her back and choked a sob. But was her love for him enough to fill this void. She had sacrificed for him willingly without thinking. Now she was haunted by the decision.

Noma scanned the small room and felt the walls closing in on her. She had to get out – get away from here, away from Alex.

She walked to the window and beyond the perimeter could see eight balls lying in wait near the trees. Maybe if she went out to meet them, lead them away, and let them take her life – she would be at peace.

Noma took one last look down at her sleeping beloved and reached for the door.

* * *

Michael leaned wearily against a tree and took in a shuddered breath. The retreat from New Delphi had taken much out of him. He could still feel the effects of electricity coursing through his limbs; pressed his hands together to keep them from trembling; and locked his knees to stop them from buckling and sending him to the ground in a heap.

His brother's sacrifice to save him clawed at his conscience.

This was his fault. He had asked Gabriel to enter New Delphi with him, and now he was at the mercy of Lyrae –who was crazed with vengeance – vengeance to punish him. But instead it was Gabriel who suffered. His instinct to go back was strong – but it was not what Gabriel wanted.

What his brother wanted was for him to find Alex and bring Father back. Gabriel's plan was to kill Lyrae. He would honor that, and not let his brother's captivity on his behalf be in vain.

Michael shook the image of his brother alone and at Lyrae's mercy out of his head, and concentrated on finding Noma and Alex.

He stood from the tree; unfurled his wings and reached out to connect with them. Without her wings, he doubted he would be in sync with Noma; but would try anyway. Perhaps on some level, she might still feel his presence.

After some time, he frowned and concluded that the pathway between them was severed. He had no sense of her and was saddened by that. He could not imagine the trauma of her loss; but recognized the significance of her sacrifice. She had saved Alex's life, and would forever be in his debt.

Michael closed his eyes, and cleared his mind. If he reached out far enough, he knew he could find Alex. Their connection had always been strong. As a child – all Alex need do was to think his name, and he would find him. It was a unique bond he held with no other human, and hoped it not been broken.

Michael stilled his heart; slowed his breathing and reached out to the chosen one; and there among the millions of heartbeats was the one he was looking for – distinct and unmistakable.

Michael opened his eyes and took flight. Soon he would see Alex, and begin their journey to save Vega.

* * *

Gabriel groaned; tested his limits and found himself bound; unable to move his arms and legs from the chair he now occupied. His head pounded inside his skull and when he peered through aching eye sockets there regrettably before him stood the dyad – leering at him with that smug look of his.

He dropped his head back, and squeezed his eyes shut tight against the harsh glare of the room. He thought Lyrae's form of torture quite unique and if he admitted to himself honestly, also very enjoyable – in its own sick perverted way.

For the life him, he had not known that deep down in his subconscious, he had a wish to be subjugated by three very domineering, beautiful women. Who knew?

He pulled at his restraints and wished he could wipe the sweat from his brow. Instead the wetness trickled down into his eyes and stung causing his headache to spike and pound away like a hammer. He felt the fatigue of torture pull him down.

Making love to three women had its ups and downs, and now he felt his energy wane and his defenses wane with it.

When his mind came back from musing on bedding three women, he heard Lyrae droning on about Michael and his abandonment. And though he had vowed not to be lured in by the maniac's taunting, he couldn't help it.

"I asked him to leave", he insisted to Lyrae – whose eyes lit up as if he was given a gift.

"Do you know the lesson of this little experiment in mind games Gabriel?" he asked with subtle delight.

"No Lyrae, but I'm sure you will tell me", he answered with forced boredom – hoping the fool would leave him be – so that he could regain his strength and plan his attempt at murder.

"While your body may be strong Gabriel, your mind is malleable. It will bend to my will." He moved toward a nearby table, and grasped a stone container. "So, I'll break your mind, and when that's done, I'll take your body and rein over this earth."

Gabriel laughed in the face of such madness and smiled his most enigmatic smile, "You won't succeed", he countered - nervous energy fluttering below the surface of his composed mask of confidence.

Lyrae moved toward Gabriel with a smile truly foreign to Julian's countenance, lifted the jar and held the amphorae tight in his grip. "See here Gabriel. With the dear General's help, we have found the hidden amphorae."

He lifted the jar and caressed it almost lovingly.

"Here is darkness", he hissed. "Let's have you ponder the darker side of yourself, and then we'll see who succeeds."

TBC

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Thank you for reading! Please take a moment and send a review – they are most welcomed! :)


	13. Chapter 13

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: This chapter takes place during the episodes Lay Thee Before Kings, The Longest Mile Home, and The Seed of Evil. Noma comes face to face with a waking nightmare; and Gabriel gets the upper hand.

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Chapter Thirteen: The Darkness

Noma stepped out from the small house; closed the front door quietly behind her and looked out over the desolate yard. She held onto the knob tightly; and considered her choices.

Behind her, Alex and Pete slept on – their exhaustion making her exodus an easy enough thing to accomplish. The scene before her of abandoned cars, bicycles, dust and beyond that, brown trees that drooped heavily under the relentless morning sun – only heightened her resolve to go through with her plan.

She squint her eyes against the brightness, and out there among the tree line – stood waiting several eight balls who swayed in time with the breeze. Noma thought on their lust for blood, and sighed with resignation. This is what she wanted – wasn't it? She turned back briefly toward the door, and brought up in her mind's eye, the image of Alex, on the couch - holding her close and breathing warm air against her neck.

She caressed the side of her neck; let go of the door knob, and began her trek for the trees.

She would greet the eight balls – lead them away from Alex, and end what was left of her life this hour. Phantom tingles at her back brought back the nightmare of her fabricated dream of flight and she moved forward to the delight of the hissing creatures – who egged her on to come close.

The pain of her injury kept her pace slow – but Noma was determined to give herself over to them. She had made up her mind. As much as she loved Alex – she was no good to him this way. She was no good to herself this way.

So she stumbled forward and prayed with each step that the end would come quickly. She wouldn't fight them. They could have her – do what they will. She was no longer willing to live like this. Her life was back in New Delphi – pinned to the wall under Julian's watchful eye.

The hissing eight balls called to her, and she was drawn to them like a siren – unable, unwilling to fight the pull of their screeching song.

But as she strode closer to the tree line with undaunted purpose – something untoward paused her march toward certain death. The eight balls, as they moved to greedily engage her – stopped in their tracks and burst into flames.

She squeezed her eyes shut, and opened them again in disbelief – only to watch as they writhed, screamed and threw themselves to the dirt as if to douse out the fire as it engulfed them. Noma stood still as stone as the flames burned the approaching eight balls into fine dust that then clumped into molten, uneven piles around her.

She stared wide in awe and disappointment as each eight ball moved out from the trees and was struck down with an inferno of heat.

A tear escaped the corner of her eye and her shoulders slumped in defeat. Was this another dream – no, a nightmare? Had she been denied her wish to have these beasts end her existence? Would she wake up now once again beside Alex, in the little house –on the couch – to bemoan her fate once again?

Her back wrenched with pain and she felt blood escape from the makeshift tape and tattered towels that loosely covered her wounds.

Suddenly, there he was before her – the dark man in the gallon hat, smiling down at her with dead eyes. Here was the man in her dream, who had promised to grant her whatever she desired. She stood before him dumbfounded; unable to move – her limbs heavy with improbability.

He reached out for her, grabbed her shoulders and shook her strong to arouse her from the stupor she found herself in. She felt his vice like grip; gasped out at the torturous pain – snapped aware and thought – not a dream; and teetered into his embrace.

"Have you come back to help me then?" she sobbed in his arms – hope rising in her chest.

He caressed her hair and whispered softly down into her ear, "It depends doesn't it? Is that boy really the Chosen One you travel with, and his First Reborn?"

Noma stiffened – and stepped back carefully. He released his hold and gazed down at her with a piercing intensity; looked for the answer within her; and leered as she clasped her hands hard over her mouth – fear replacing hope.

The stranger leaned further into her personal space, and Noma bristled with apprehension; danger signals going off in her mind.

Who was this man? Why did he torment her with dreams of flight? What did he know of Alex and Pete? Was he promising to give her back her life? She shook her head in dismay; and told herself that she would not betray them – the instinct to protect Alex was still strong within her.

She tried to turn away – get back to the house – away from this threat and the burning eight balls.

He grabbed for her again and stared deep within her eyes, down into her soul, held her still and laughed softly at her fear and confusion. "Never mind fallen one", he chimed," just you get them to come east."

Noma turned to run, but he held her fast – his face so close she could feel his breath at her cheek. "Do as I say – east – is where you lead."

And then he was gone. The screeching of the eight balls halted; the flames erupting from their bodies ceased and silence descended around her.

Noma stood alone – stared out into the trees, the pain at her back unbearable; the pain in her heart and mind – inconsolable. She collapsed in the dirt and wept.

* * *

Alex woke to a sense of loss and unease. When he pried his eyes open he immediately missed the heat of Noma's body next to his. He shivered slightly and felt the cool, empty space at his side.

He was struck by how incomplete he felt and wondered how she had shifted from being his friend – to his partner – to someone who now made his life worth living. She was his anchor; and along with Pete, the reason he kept going.

He thought then of Michael and hoped he was okay – that he had somehow escaped torture by Julian's hand and would meet up with them as he had promised.

He swung his legs to the floor; stretched his arms above his head and popped his neck. Sleeping on a couch this small had cramped his neck and shoulder muscles – but he would not begrudge the soft surface, after so many hours – no days, on hard earth or stone floors.

He winced as he felt the burns about his body; and flashed back to Noma's wings pressed and pinned to the wall back in New Delphi. Her sacrifice weighed heavy on him, and he knew, he could never make up for her loss. He sneaked a brief peek at the markings on his arms beneath the sleeves of his jacket and for the thousandth time, wished he understood what they were meant to tell him.

He hoped what they revealed was worth her devotion and worth Pete's faith in him.

One thing he did know for certain was that they needed to get help for Noma, and find their way to Vega. Julian's army was in hibernation for now, but soon he would awaken them and march on his home; Claire and his child.

Alex rubbed the sleep from his eyes; then leaned forward to massage the stiffness in his neck; and watched as Pete began to stir and flop to his back on the floor near the far wall.

Pete sighed deeply; opened his eyes and peered at Alex from under his bangs. "Hello ", he murmured, as he swiped drool from the corner of his mouth, and stretched his limbs.

"Hello", Alex smiled back, and stood to his feet. He scanned the room and saw no trace of Noma. He wondered where she could be when Pete voiced the concern aloud.

"Where's Noma?" he asked through a yawn and red teary eyes. He raked his fingers through his hair; and pulled gently at the roots. It had been a long, long night – and he was happy he and his friends were alive.

Alex shrugged; made his way to the window, and pushed aside the frayed curtains. Could she have gone out to get water? But Noma had been so weak – he didn't think she could carry the bucket full of water back to the house by herself.

Pete gingerly got to his feet, used the wall as his anchor; and felt every muscle in his body pull at him in pain. He walked over and stood next to Alex at the window, and there – out at the perimeter, near the trees was Noma – walking slowly back to the house, weaving to and fro, unsteady on her feet; eight balls gesturing and snarling at her back.

Alex yanked the front door open and raced out of the house. He could hear and feel Pete on his heels – as they ran head long past the well and toward the trees.

"Noma!" Alex screamed with fear and frantic anxiety. He ran as fast as his aching legs could carry him and skidded to a halt before her – grabbed her about the shoulders and felt wetness on the tips of his fingers at her back.

When he pulled them away – blood tinged his hands and he brought her in close. When she did not respond to his embrace, he squeezed her tighter and felt her flinch. What had she been thinking? Why was she out here? Why weren't the eight balls in pursuit ready to tear them all limb from limb?

Pete yelled to him at his side; pointed to the ground, and once again spoke aloud his very thoughts, "What happened out here?" Alex looked up to see that piles of ash dotted the surface of the ground all around them. Out among the trees, the eight balls stared them down, but seemed reluctant to approach.

As Pete moved to investigate – a memory of his dazed fight for the house came back to him. What he thought was a hallucination – an eight ball burned alive – was perhaps not a figment of his exhausted mind after all.

"No Pete", Alex called to him – effectively bringing him to a halt. "Let's get Noma back – she's bleeding again."

Pete nodded and moved to the other side to help support Noma's weight back to the house. As they moved away – he looked over his shoulder and thought he saw a silhouette of someone watching them.

When he blinked, the shadow was gone.

* * *

Lyrae moved with calm ease toward a bound and pinned Gabriel – lifted the vial and leaned over to peer into his eyes. He held the Amphorae of Darkness close to his heart and laughed.

This was going to be fun – he thought – and dropped the black, darkness into Gabriel's waiting eye.

"This will never work", Gabriel forced out the words as his heart beat ratcheted up and drummed hard against his chest. He would never admit it – but he was frightened. The Darkness was one of God's ultimate weapons. What effect would it have on him?

Lyrae snickered and stood to his full height, "Oh, in an infinite universe, never is a useless concept", and then stepped away to behold his long awaited plan – destroy Gabriel; possess his body and rule over this pathetic earth.

Lyrae watched with anticipation as the darkness invaded his nemesis and caused him to open his eyes wide – cough and then convulse in pain. He took pleasure in it – the pain the darkness caused; and only wished more that it was Michael who suffered.

Gabriel could feel the darkness worm its way through his veins, his blood stream and then to his heart. The power of it radiated through his body and left his brain firing on all cylinders. And though he felt pain, he also felt powerful, omnipotent – in control of himself and all that was around him for the first time in his life.

This formidable, dark creature was who he was truly meant to be. He could feel; hear; and see everything. The hum of New Delphi called to him. He could sense every lower angel; and every wayward human inhabiting the city.

Lyrae stepped to Gabriel; reached out and tried to steal the essence of the archangel; but realized his mistake when he moved to enter and possess him. Gabriel's eyes filled with blackness and he took his substance back. Lyrae knew then, he was no longer the one with the upper hand. He dropped the Amphorae and attempted to retreat.

But it was too late.

Gabriel released himself from his bonds with ease – pushed back against Lyrae's attempt to gain control of him, and recognized that the darkness was just not in him, but was him.

He howled as Lyrae scurried away in fright and loosed his wings to encompass the room; and strike him hard against the far wall – blood erupting from his mouth, his nose and ears. Eight balls and humans alike, in the room to bear witness to Lyrae's forced takeover of an archangel – fell to their knees in subjugation; as they saw the tide turn in Gabriel's favor.

They – as all of New Delphi; were now at his mercy – Julian only an afterthought – as he crawled away and disappeared into the maze of the underground bunker.

Gabriel breathed in his greatness. Lyrae in his misguided need to seek revenge had overestimated his own intelligence; underestimated what made Gabriel who he truly was. But Lyrae was right about one thing. Michael had left him – abandoned him – given himself over to Alex – to mankind; and had betrayed their brotherhood.

The darkness seeped deeper into his soul and held fast. He would find Michael; make him pay for his betrayal. He would take Alex from him, as he had taken David. He would rule over New Delphi; command its army in Lyrae's stead, and destroy Vega.

Gabiel picked up the discarded Amphorae and smiled. He would do more than destroy Vega; he would obliterate her from the face of the earth.

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Thank you so much for reading. Please review and tell me what you think. Your thoughts mean a lot; and help me to stay the course! Also, thank you for those of you who have decided to follow and favorite. I was so bummed to hear that Dominion had been canceled for next season. There is nothing else like it on television, and I will miss it.


	14. Chapter 14

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: This chapter takes place during the episodes Lay Thee Before Kings, The Longest Mile Home, and The Seed of Evil. Noma decides to face her fears; Alex re-evaluates their next move; Pete works his own magic and Michael continues his search for the trio.

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Chapter Fourteen: Moving Forward

When they crested the threshold of the front door into the living room, Noma reached up and clasped Alex's face between her trembling hands. She searched his questioning gaze and promptly collapsed weakly into his arms.

How could she explain it to him? What could she say that would help him understand her despair; her grief and now her real fear of what danger awaited them from the stranger in the woods and in her dreams?

Alex deftly lifted her limp form; carried her to the couch and laid her gently down on her side. Without being asked, Pete reached for the bucket and ran from the house to gather more water from the well. When he reached the well and looked out to the trees, the eight balls hissed; snarled and spit in his direction – but did not cross over into the dusty yard. He frowned out at them, and wondered what this meant.

Why did they not strike? What power controlled them? Was there a dyad at work here as well controlling these lower angels as Julian controlled those back in New Delphi?

Pete pulled the bucket up from the well, and raced back toward the house. When he returned, together with Alex, they once again took to undressing Noma and cleaned away the saturated towels and oozing blood from her back.

Alex worked steadily and with great care, but could not help but dwell darkly in guilt as he lifted away the blood from her torn shoulder blades.

He had failed miserably. Gabriel still lived; Michael captured – tortured or maybe worse; and Noma had given up everything – and seemed to have lost her will to live. And what of Vega and her people – how was he to save them if he couldn't even keep the ones closest to him safe?

After attempting to care for Noma the best they could with such little at their disposal, Pete slid to the floor at the foot of the couch. He watched solemnly as Alex slid behind Noma and lifted her legs to rest them across his thighs – his eyes forlorn, and his countenance almost defeated.

Pete sensed the anguish in him and quickly went to assuage his melancholy. "She's going to be alright", he whispered. "Everything will work out."

Pete stared into the blue aura that was Alex and was sure his words rang true. He just needed Alex to believe it. He was the chosen one; and he had complete faith in his abilities. And just as Noma had done, he would sacrifice anything – even his life to help Alex.

He lifted himself to his knees and locked his gaze with the man who saved his life, and decided in that moment to press on and say what needed to be said.

"Whatever comes Alex", he began, "Whatever happens, I'm with you all the way. There is no turning back for me. I was once – no twice – possessed; overtaken - a puppet for a maniac. And it was you who saved me from a life of slavery - an existence that would be worse than death."

Alex heard the sincerity in Pete's words and felt his face flush with heat. He sighed deeply and thought on what he could say; but had no answer for such loyalty. What was there to say? That he felt undeserving? That he did not understand the message God was attempting to impart? That he was afraid he would get them all killed? - And for what? To follow him, would surely mean great sacrifice.

He knew he was committed to being the chosen one – but what did that really mean? How much more could he expect Noma and Pete to give?

Pete grabbed his knee and squeezed, "I pledge my life to you Alex. You can do this thing – save Vega and help save mankind. I will not leave you."

Alex took in a shuddered breath and met Pete's steady gaze, "Then I pledge mine to you also." He looked down at Noma and added, "And to Noma." He then felt the markings move beneath his jacket and knew something monumental had happened, but did not understand. He pushed up his sleeves and he and Pete watched in awe as they shifted and realigned themselves.

He growled low in his throat with frustration; and wished Michael were there with him to tell him what this all meant. He dropped his arms; leaned his head back on the couch and called for him – just like he use to when he was a kid; and prayed hard that the archangel would hear him and come.

Pete stood to his feet, "I should go out and search for something that can help her – needle; thread – anything." He bit his bottom lip and moved toward the door ready to get going.

Alex shook his head as he rubbed Noma's knees laid across his lap. "No – we don't split up again", he responded. "From now on – we stick together." He searched Pete's face; saw the indecision there and waited for a response – knowing his impetuous nature.

Pete frowned at that, "Is that an order; because she won't get very far like this."

Alex jutted is jaw toward the door, "Go out and see if you can get that truck started. Then we'll leave this place and get what we need – together."

Pete walked to the door and stared out reluctantly into the yard. Eight balls snarled beyond the trees. Alex followed his line of sight. "For whatever reason, I don't think they will bother us", he surmised. Pete nodded in agreement and asked, "What do you think it means?"

Alex shrugged his shoulders; just as bewildered. "I don't know. But it is a gift we'll take advantage of."

Pete nodded; walked out the door with determination and stalked quickly toward the truck. It was time for him to work his own brand of magic.

* * *

After hours in the air searching for clues; reaching out for any sense of Alex – Michael finally had to give in and listen to his body.

He descended to earth and landed gingerly on the ground; his knees buckling immediately. He sat unceremoniously in the dirt and groaned as the myriad of aches and pains made themselves known.

Torture by Lyrae's hand had taken more out of him than he had thought. He leaned his head into his hands and rubbed at his temples and hoped the pain there would subside soon. The dizziness was making it difficult to fly and to concentrate.

The more he attempted to reach out to try and connect with Alex – the more the pain spiked behind his eyes and dug into the base of his skull. He just hoped he was headed in the right direction; and that the reason he could not sense Alex was because he had not survived the escape.

He examined his hands, and saw that they still trembled from the course of electricity that continued to fire through his system. He held onto his knees – willing them to stop shaking; so that he could at least stand. But it was no use. For now he was grounded – tethered to the ground by his infernal weakness.

In his mind, he knew that he needed to get moving; but also knew he would be no good to Alex if he could not function properly. Michael leaned back and lay against a nearby tree; took in a painful breath and felt the air shudder in his lungs.

He would rest here – take a moment; gather himself and pray that Alex, Noma and the boy had found shelter and were well.

His thoughts then fell to his brother – who in the best of times he did not understand. To have fought on opposite sides of this war for twenty –five years and to now help him escape in order to find the chosen one - was incredulous.

Truly, Gabriel must still love him.

With that his last thought – Michael closed his eyes to rest; and in his dreams heard Alex call his name.

* * *

As Pete worked out in the yard, Alex sat in total silence with Noma resting beside him and thought of what to do next. First order of business was to get the truck moving; then find what they needed to fix Noma – then head to Vega.

He regarded Noma with care and thought on her earlier actions. What would make her leave him and head out among the eight balls? It was obvious to him she wanted to end her life, but why? He thought she loved him; and that her mind was strong – but perhaps her sacrifice had been too much to bear.

He had pledged his life to her, and he would stand by it.

Noma stirred beneath him, and Alex squeezed her shoulder lightly. "It's okay Noma", he whispered – as she shifted and groaned with pain.

When she gazed up into his eyes – she saw only love and felt sorry that she had wanted to leave him – to end her life, so that she would not have to live without her gift. She had sworn to be at his side always. But she could not help the depression that weighed her down.

"Who am I?" she asked him once again as he stared down at her. "Who am I?" Her voice cracked as tears slid down her cheeks.

Alex caressed her hair; and pulled playfully at her pony tail – "You are Nomes", he said and smiled down at her. He leaned over then and pressed his lips to hers. She responded to his warmth and kissed him back.

When he pulled back from her, she reached up; touched the side of his face and repeated his mantra in a soft whisper, "Nomes." He nodded down at her and there in his eyes she saw both tenderness and passion. And she saw something else there too – perhaps commitment?

She felt a tickle of something in her mind and thought now maybe she would regain her strength – become something new and help Alex restore balance to this retched world. Perhaps he could save her too while he was at it. She felt that tickling sensation again and frowned with uncertainty. A distant memory gnawed at her; insisting that she remember, and she tried hard to concentrate on it.

East was it? Was she to take him East?

In the yard, they could hear the truck engine turn over and Pete let out a yell of triumph.

Alex smoothed the frown from her forehead and grinned, "Let's go", he said; and brushed his lips against hers. "Let's go and get you fixed up."

Together they rose from the couch; walked to the door and left the little house behind. Pete stood beside the truck, with his hands held out wide with a huge smile on his face that reached his eyes. He jumped in on the driver's side; pushed his foot down on the accelerator; and listened to the purr with satisfaction.

When he opened his eyes, Alex and Noma stood at the passenger door ready to join him. He leaned over and pushed the door open, "We have half a tank of gas", he yelled out to them, "Enough to get us going."

They stood at the door, side by side – anticipating the journey ahead – "Come on! Hop in!" he bellowed, "Let's get this show on the road!"

* * *

Thank you so much for reading. I would love to hear what you think; so please leave a comment! As always – thank you for those who have reviewed; have favorited or have decided to follow this story. It is much appreciated!


	15. Chapter 15

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: Alex, Noma and Pete continue on their journey toward Vega with Michael close behind. And touched with the darkness, Gabriel plots his ascension.

* * *

Chapter Fifteen: Together

Pete sat behind the wheel of the truck and veered off on exit seven to the small town of Ely. The ride so far had been uneventful and the road stretched on ahead, deceptively quiet. So much so that after all of the turmoil they had experienced – this peace felt unnatural.

He looked down at the gauge and saw that a quarter of gas was all they had left in the tank. Supplies needed to be found soon – from somewhere before they had to abandon this vehicle and start walking.

He stole a glance to his right and noticed that while Noma leaned heavily against Alex's shoulder and appeared asleep – Alex sat straight and on guard. His eyes riveted out the passenger window – looking for trouble; or to the sky – waiting for Michael.

Pete looked up too and saw nothing worthy of mention. For Alex' sake, he hoped the archangel would make an appearance soon. While he trusted Alex with his life – he wasn't so sure about Michael.

He focused his gaze back to the open road and adjusted his body to lean a little more forward. His butt was killing him – along with a host of other aches; pains and bruises. And the excessive heat of the day wasn't helping matters – only serving to drag him down; drain his energy and cause his eyes to droop at unexpected moments.

He slapped his cheeks to keep from nodding off and spread his eyes wide open. This heat, he thought, was becoming unbearable. The sweat rolled off him in torrents; along the sides of his face, into his eyes; down his back and soaked his arm pits.

The open windows only pushed more heat into the cabin and gave no real relief. Alex looked just as miserable as he felt; but he didn't complain – so he wouldn't either.

When they hit the outskirts of Ely, he slowed down and eyed the desolate surroundings of abandoned cars – schools – homes and buildings. He wondered what things must have been like in this town, before the extermination wars. He imagined neighbors waving hello, kids riding bikes, horns blaring in backed up traffic. What he wouldn't give for things to be as they once were.

He stole another glance in Alex's direction. This would be his purpose – to follow the chosen one and restore balance to this world. Alex would set things right again. He had no doubts.

When they reached the center of town, Alex reached over; touched his arm and pointed out the window to the grocery store at the end of Main Street – toward the empty parking lot.

Pete pulled in, parked and turned off the engine. They both looked at each other and surveyed the area. Without the engine running, the silence that greeted them was eerie and uncomfortable. The arid breeze blew debris across their path – but they could sense no other movement – no eight balls – no rouge humans – nothing.

Alex considered the store and drummed his fingers on the dashboard. He was eager to see what could still be inside the abandoned establishment. Perhaps it held what they so desperately needed.

He peered down at Noma, pushed the sweat from her forehead, and looked over at Pete – who smiled back at him – expecting to have action and head for the store.

Noma felt the tender touch to her brow; groaned, sat up slowly and peered up at Alex through blurry vision. She rubbed at her eyes and when they cleared could see they had come to a stop outside a grocery store. When she looked at her two companions – she could see they were chomping at the bit to leave the truck – their attention glued to the large building.

"Why are we stopping here?" she asked – coughed, and then cleared the exhaustion from her voice.

Alex continued to stare out at the store and looked for any sign of wayward eight balls. "We're here to get what we need" he answered. "And what we need is a first aid kit – some food; and water if we can find it."

Noma shook her head in disbelief, "There is no way anything is left here. Everything would have been looted by now."

Alex looked to her and shrugged, "There better be something here – or you bleed to death; we starve and never make it to Vega."

Pete opened his door and grabbed for his trusty tire iron. "That settles it then" he said with enthusiasm, "we go in." He stepped out of the cabin, placed the impromptu weapon at the back of his pants and led the way to the entrance.

* * *

Michael woke with a start, the remnants of his dream – Alex calling out to him – echoing in his mind.

He squeezed his eyes tight, took a deep cleansing breath and reached out with his senses to that plea for help. There it was – intertwined admits all the other noise and chaos of this world – the thread that would lead him to the chosen one.

Alex was alive.

He exhaled with relief and slowly got to his feet. His legs felt strong beneath him, and though his head still ached – he was no longer dizzy or trembling with electrical currents. Michael unfurled his power and spread them out at their full, magnificent length. He stretched himself experimentally and felt no twinges or pain.

He was regaining his strength and now had his connection with Alex restored.

He turned in the direction of New Delphi and thought on his brother – how he fared – if he had garnered his revenge – or was he now the puppet of Lyrae. Apprehension lay heavy on his heart.

Michael frowned and focused. This was no time for indecision. The fate of Vega, of mankind was at hand.

Michael looked to the sky and put the uncertainty behind him – bent his knees and took flight – the comfort of pressing air pushed all his worries aside. Soon he would see Alex again.

* * *

Once inside the sliding glass doors – the heat of the day gave way to coolness; clean floors, pristine aisles of merchandise and a teenage eight ball at the cash register smiling their way – his wayward hair falling over the blue veins popping from his forehead.

Over the loud speaker, holiday themed music blared something about a white Christmas and a disemboweled voice interrupted with "clean up needed on aisle three". The hissing voice only served to make the request sound sinister and deadly.

Pete reached for his weapon at his back – but Alex held his arm to stay – and looked about with a curious expression on his face.

An elderly white haired, eight ball – her uniform immaculate – a smile plastered on her lips across serrated teeth – approached them; her manner polite as she inquired if they needed any help. Alex shook his head no, and watched as she walked away on some errand to "help" others.

Another eight ball breezed by with a broom, muttering about messes on aisle three and moaned, "Why me?"

Alex looked to Noma and could not hide his astonishment, "What are they doing here?" he asked.

Noma let her gaze wander about the store, "Lower angels aren't that different from humans. Some are smart, evolved and some dumber than door nails. But they all obsess over the lives they have stolen."

"They must really like it here", Pete chuckled nervously – ready to find what they needed and leave this place.

Noma turned to her friends, "We should not stay here. They could turn on us at any moment."

"No", Alex countered. "We find what we need – then we get out of here."

Pete nodded in agreement; held his tire iron in a firm grip and followed close – Noma bringing up the rear.

* * *

Gabriel surveyed Julian's living quarters and planted himself in the large, plush leather chair where once the leader of New Delphi sat omnipotent.

Now this world was his – the underground installation; the flourishing trade; the eight ball army dormant beneath his feet; and the many merchants who inhabited this place – were now under his rule.

He caressed the amphora and felt its power leech out to him – his own darkness growing within him by the hour. He had sent scouts out to find Lyrae – still hidden among them somewhere – but cared little if he found the little worm at all. Lyrae was no match for him – now more so than ever.

Lyrae's entourage of body guards – now his - entered the room with the dyad General Reisen between them. He had found the man's weakness – removed the threat – and now before him was Duma; loyal servant and soldier.

Here before him, was his ticket to invading and taking control of Vega.

He would unleash his army – the darkness – bring Vega to her knees, and crush Michael along with her; Michael, his beloved brother, who chose Alex above him – above Father – above loyalty.

He shared a knowing smile with Duma and their eyes shown black in unison. It was time to take over the world - if not Father; then why not him?

* * *

The trek through the store, with cart in tow – found the trio throwing in beef jerky; bottled water – back packs – sleeping bags – flash lights and batteries. The eight balls working the floor paid them no heed and went about their duties as if on remote control. When they finally found the wilderness first aid kit among the camping gear, they collapsed on the floor in relief.

Alex ripped the package open and Pete helped lift Noma's shirt. With bottled water and wash cloths – they cleaned her wounds and went about the task of sewing together her torn flesh. Alex gently squeezed her shoulder and pressed his lips to the back of her neck. "It will be over soon", he whispered. Noma grit her teeth, nodded and bore the pain without a sound.

The shuffling footfalls of eight balls roaming about the aisles had Pete on edge – so he held onto his tire iron and stood guard until the stitching was complete.

Once done – Noma lay gasping in Alex's arms – sweat causing her hair to stick to her forehead and cheeks. When she gathered her wits, she pet Alex on the chest with reassurance and sat up. It was definite now – her life as a higher angel was lost to her forever. She would never be able to go home. The doors of heaven were now closed to her.

Over the P.A. system, a hissing, gravelly voice announced, "Attention shoppers – the store is now closing."

Pete looked to Alex, "What do we do?" he wondered aloud – anxiety creeping into his voice.

Alex stood to his feet and pulled Noma up with him, "We go to the register and get the hell out of here."

* * *

Michael circled the town of Ely two, three, and then four times. His senses told him that Alex was here somewhere, but he saw no evidence of it.

Suddenly, a commotion by the grocery store entrance caught his attention. There at the door stood Alex with a chainsaw bearing down on an eight ball determined to attack – the weapon hacking away limbs. Noma brandished a hammer - and smashed in the skull of an eight ball at her feet; and the boy Pete swung a tire iron over and over again down on the body of an eight ball whose face was now only a bloody mass - unrecognizable.

They were covered in blood, their faces grim and he could see their strength was waning. More eight balls joined the fray and encircled the trio who were fighting for their lives.

Michael descended fast – assessed the situation and flung out his wings. He downed the threat in one fell swoop of grace and power before he even touched the ground. When he retracted his strength the three stood before him out of breath, weary – but relieved to see him. He had turned the tide, and saved their lives.

Pete promptly fell to the ground and sat with his head in his hands; exhausted, Noma joined him there – unable to even acknowledge the archangel's presence. They sat together – spent.

Alex looked to Michael, moved to him swiftly and wrapped his arms about his neck and held on tight. "Where were you?" he choked out – overcome with emotion. The harrowing fight to leave the store still etched in his mind had him shivering uncontrollably. They had made it out alive, and the relief of it was overwhelming.

Alex felt Michael hesitate, except his embrace, and then hold him about the shoulders. He breathed in Michael's essence and felt safe again. Nothing could hurt him – everything was going to be alright. Michael was here, and all would be well. He felt tears well up in his eyes and burrowed his face into Michael's neck and openly wept.

"I'm here", Michael whispered to his friend, and held him closer still. "I'm here."

* * *

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know what you think. Your reviews are like presents and are much appreciated. I know I have strayed very far from the original intent of the writers for Dominion– but hope this version is okay! (Some of the paraphrased dialogue here is from the series itself.) Merry Christmas everyone!


	16. Chapter 16

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: Reunited – Michael; Alex; Pete and Noma – take time out to regain their footing; re-establish bonds and confirm their faith.

* * *

Chapter Sixteen: Respite

Noma shivered slightly and pulled the sleeping bag close around her shoulders. Darkness had come quickly – so camping here in this long forgotten National Park had become their stop for the night. The twisting, turning bristle cone pines, indigenous to this region, reached upward to heaven with strength and purpose of longevity and survival.

The nearby lake – in daylight – a cool blue hue, now at night showed as a large, black well; the stars bouncing their glow from heaven to its depths. It was good they had found this place, hidden beneath the mountains – away from eight balls – who would find it too ponderous a climb; and too cool to rest.

It was a sanctuary of sorts; and they definitely needed the respite. The fight back in Ely had taken a great toll. They were all weary and worn down – their bodies ached to stop – desperate to regain strength and energy.

Noma could see that Michael's presence had brought about a change in Alex – a change for the better. He seemed more confident that things would improve – that now the real journey would begin. Michael seemed to restore something in him – perhaps his sense of purpose.

She looked across the flames of their campfire and was met by the un-emotional stare of deep brown eyes. She shivered again. Michael looked through her as if she wasn't there – or did he look through her – straight into her soul?

Though glad to be reunited with him, to see him safe – she shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny; and brought her attention back to the fire. She wondered what he thought of her now that she was no longer a higher angel, could no longer take flight – was only Noma.

The stranger in chaps – cowboy boots and the gallon hat came to mind. His Cheshire grin and promises assailed her senses. She wondered if Michael could feel her disloyal thoughts beneath her misery.

She poked at the flames before her and felt the heat swell along with pops and crackles of flying embers. She could not sleep – as the image of the stranger would not let her. His words echoed – sweet like honey – "bring him east" – over and over again.

What did it mean – was he a dream – a vision – or a premonition? His touch had seemed real enough and it frightened her.

The phantom flutter of wings at her back made her flinch and she reached behind from beneath her sleeping bag – too late – realized nothing was there. The grief hit her hard; the pain of it bringing tears to her eyes, and his promise of redemption flooded her with hope.

What did this say about her true nature? Would she so easily consider his whispers over Alex's love – his mission – his importance to God?

She dropped her hands to her lap, dejected; remorseful – conflicted. It had not been real. The stranger's words – his promises had to be false. If not false, then to consider them was treacherous on her part. She loved Alex.

His hope for the future – was her hope too. His mission was hers. She had willingly chosen sides; to be Michael's ally, and had given twenty – five years of her life for this moment in time – to assist the chosen one.

She scanned the camp. Alex and Pete had left some time ago to gather more kindling. They would be back soon. She would seek Alex out then – lie close to his side and find her redemption in his arms – nowhere else.

Noma could feel the heat of Michael's stare across the spitting flames. That he knew her – understood that centuries of back story stood between them sent an unsettled tingle down her spine that had nothing to do with the cooling temperature.

She closed her eyes and hoped her face gave nothing away of her uncertainty; her regret at having sacrificed her gift. When she opened her eyes and looked to the heavens, the stars called to her – beckoned her to come and enjoy the space among them.

The stars here were magnificent; the sky pristine – what she would surrender to have just a moment with the wind in her face. She welled up with sorrow – her pain a living, breathing thing. Her heart was broken – she would never have such joy again.

Noma lowered her body to the ground; stretched her limbs and laid her head in the dirt. Though she had lost her gift of flight, she still had Alex. She would soar through him – give him all she had left.

Noma closed her eyes and ignored Michael's intense gaze. If not sleep – she would rest. For the final leg to Vega – she would need all the rest she could get; and would address Michael and his mistrust of her soon enough.

* * *

Michael sat across from Noma and considered her carefully. She was in pain – her grief was raw and she was hiding something.

He watched as a myriad of emotions passed over her face and then leech into her body, masked as weariness. Her suffering was hard to ignore – but deep down he could sense her uneasiness – an uneasiness that overrode her pain, her loss and her love for Alex.

He turned from her as she slid to the ground to effectively dismiss any chance he had of questioning her. Tomorrow would be soon enough. Today – he would just revel in being reunited with Alex – with them all.

Finding Alex again, had brought out emotions in him – he had long thought buried. It was good to be near him - his presence a soothing balm. He resolved to never leave his side again. Together, they would decipher what was left of the markings, unlock God's message and restore mankind's humanity. He would make up for lost time; beg for forgiveness – if he must; and work to restore Alex's faith in him.

Michael closed his eyes and retreated into himself – reached out and could sense Alex with Pete out among the trees. The two were laughing as they gathered sticks and it brought a brief sort of joy to his heart that Alex could still find goodness in this barren world.

Earlier, as they had all washed in the nearby lake – blood from their clothes – hands – faces and bodies; he had seen the raw, puckered stitching at Noma's shoulder blades – the molten bruises on Pete's back, chest and torso. And then there were the burn marks along Alex's arms and back – courtesy of Lyrae's madness. They had all suffered greatly in New Delphi; and it was his hope that Gabriel had found a way to exact revenge.

Not only had Lyrae caused his boy pain – but he had forever erased God's word – never to be regained, deciphered or understood. He lifted his face to the sky and pushed back his guilt. The past was the past. Alex had survived and now lived to fight, laugh and love another day.

Side by side with Pete, the First Reborn – Noma the Protector – and he the Archangel would see to it that mankind followed Alex into the light. He would stand by his side until the bitter end.

Michael relaxed his shoulders – breathed deeply, and let the night noises – the chirping crickets; rustling leaves and the ebb and flow of water in the lake, calm his scattered thoughts.

What lay ahead would be hard – difficult beyond imagination – but as other chosen ones before had endured, so would Alex.

Then, there scrambling through the brush – an arm laden with wood was Alex. He walked toward him from the tress – Pete rushing to keep pace. A smile adorned his face; his eyes were bright – his aura – a blue glow that brought him peace, and purpose.

When they came to a stop, beside him stood the boy – who looked on the chosen one with such ardor. Michael knew in this moment that this was the beginning. He could feel the foundation of his faith rise up within his heart. Together they would make it to Vega – bring Lyrae's army low and start a revolution. It would be Alex – he would be the one to bring God back to them all.

Alex dropped his burden and sprawled next to him – his limbs loose; fatigue evident in the way he sighed and rubbed at his temples.

Pete sat close and stoked the flames a fresh. "I'll take first watch", he proclaimed. "Get some rest. I'll wake you if anything happens."

Michael looked to the boy, who gazed back and frowned with a hint of mistrust – but also with tolerance and respect. He would like to learn more of Pete – what it was to be reborn.

"Sounds good", Alex groaned, as he made his way to Noma's side and lay with her – his hand resting at her waist. She burrowed close and let him hold her tight.

Michael closed his eyes once more, and let himself drift deep down into slumber – a slumber that led him inexplicably to Laurel and the dusty streets of Mallory.

* * *

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review and let me know what you think. Reviews are like fuel to help keep me going! Happy New Year!


	17. Chapter 17

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: The future seems uncertain as Michael finds himself inexplicably back in Mallory.

* * *

Chapter Seventeen: Mallory Revisited

"Where have you come from?"

Her voice was clear; tinged with uncertainty and a little gladness. Michael opened his eyes with a start and there before him stood Laurel. Her brown eyes were wide with astonishment and her brow creased in consternation. A light breeze lifted, and shifted her dark hair about her face. He watched in confusion as she brushed her wayward bangs aside and looked up at him in amazement.

The dusty streets, where he had fought side by side with frightened residents not long ago - had not changed. The wooden statue, reaching her arms up to heaven – was still there – burning bright with their faith.

Children raced by him – squealing with abandon and delight as school let out a few buildings down. The church bell clanged nearby; and he could hear the choir singing reverently to the prophet – giving thanks for their continued survival.

He could hear his name murmured among the milling town folk and remembered their names; faces and recalled their bravery and sacrifice.

When he looked beyond Laurel's mystified expression – he could see that he was definitely in Mallory. A place that had tested his resolve; faith – and had given him a brief respite from heartache. Was this a dream?

The earth beneath his feet felt real enough – the breeze lifted his hair from his forehead and swirled dust in his eyes. The grit there stung and he swiped the tears that came with it. "Mallory", he whispered low – and breathed out a sigh of recognition.

Laurel touched his arm; and he knew then – this was no dream; no hallucination – he was in Mallory; with Laurel – who stood beside him in the flesh – her cheeks flushed and eyes pooled with emotion. She looked as beautiful as ever.

She grabbed his hand and everything came into sharp focus. The church bell rang on – children laughed and broke out into play in the street; a buggy drove by and a neighbor called out, "Is that Michael?"

Laurel squeezed his hand; he found her gaze and wondered if he looked just as stunned as she did. He lifted her hand to his lips – kissed it – glad to see her; overwhelmed with feeling, but wary.

What game was this? Why was he here? How had he come to be back in Mallory? Where were Alex and the others? The questions came fast, muddied his mind and left him baffled.

Laurel hugged him close and kissed his neck. Her breath at his ear brought back the memory of their love making in the barn. He placed his hands at her waist and her kissed her back – longing quickly seguing to desire.

"I thought you were dead and was sure never to see you again, until we were to meet again in the afterlife", she whispered and held him the tighter – her own body aching at the memory of their last days together. "Am I dreaming?" she murmured, and pressed closer feeling Michael's heartbeat at her ear.

"I thought the same", he answered, and lifted her gently from her feet – joy lightening his heart.

Across the way – storming from his home in an angry frenzy, Wes yelled out, "What are you doing here?" – His shot gun raised, ready to fire.

Laurel turned – pushed Michael behind her and faced Wes' wrath head on; her eyes emblazoned with protective fierceness.

And then she was gone – Wes vanished – the children dispersed – the bell gone still; its last note echoing over the empty street – lost and dispelled over space.

Only the arid breeze continued to stir the dust about his ankles; and push back his hair.

Michael searched about him in confusion. Perhaps this was a dream after all?

* * *

Pete stared intently into the flames and stole curious glances over in the archangel's direction – who slept sitting up it seemed – with his back ram rod straight; eyes shut; and breath inhaling and exhaling at a steady rate.

He wasn't sure what he thought of Michael, but knew Alex not only loved him, but worshiped the ground he walked on. He had seen for himself how the weight of the world seemed easier for Alex to bear, now that Michael had returned.

Everything about him seemed less oppressive. For that he was glad.

If nothing else, he would accept Michael for Alex's sake and well-being. But something about the archangel did not sit well with him. That he had abandoned Alex when he needed him most was a sore point with him; something he would not easily forget, but was willing to overlook for the chosen one.

He cast his thoughts to Noma, who seemed wary and uneasy with the reappearance of the archangel and he wondered about that. Lately, she had been acting strange – attempting to leave them; purposefully engaging the eight balls.

Was she trying to hurt herself – leave them in a more permanent way? What was she truly thinking? He felt bad questioning her actions; but knew he had to watch out for Alex.

He shook his head to deny such thoughts. Noma loved Alex; and had given up everything. She would never do that – would she? She would never turn her back on Alex and forsake their mission. Her commitment and sacrificial should be something to mimic and admire.

Pete looked to the three and wondered about his place among them. What purpose did he serve really? The archangel was Alex's guiding mentor – he could read the markings; and would help Alex on this journey to save humanity. Noma was his protector. Even without her wings – her strength - now that she was on the mend – would be formidable.

What did he have to offer – other than his blind faith; gratitude and loyalty? Would it be enough? He kicked dirt into the flames and watched the embers stir. Well – what he could give would have to be enough; and he would give it willingly with no hesitation.

He watched as Noma and Alex slept on – entwined in each other's embrace; and was relieved to see them finally at an easy rest – free for the moment from pain and eminent worry.

The hours passed by quiet and uneventful. No unexpected noises accosted the camp – only the peaceful breathing of his comrades.

Soon he would wake Michael to take his place and keep watch. He stood to stretch his tired muscles and felt the dull throb of pain pulsate throughout his body. Rest is what he needed.

So Pete was taken by surprise when the archangel keeled over from his seated position and hit the dirt on his side; and began to groan and convulse. Pete ran to him – held his shoulders and called out to Alex in quick succession.

* * *

Michael blinked and found himself with in the church – the lit candles, paintings and altar just as he remembered it. Nothing had changed here since the day he had left – taking the sins of Mallory with him.

He spun around and took in his surroundings. The silence and stillness warned him that something untoward was soon to happen. When he turned toward the open doors of the church – there stood a man dressed in chaps; cowboy boots; full length duster coat and a gallon hat.

This man was a stranger to him – but at the same time familiar in some way.

The stranger sauntered forward – hands placed lightly at his hips where his fire arms sat in holsters and announced – "Welcome back Michael."

Michael squinted and stared down the grinning stranger as he approached. "Who are you?" he asked.

The stranger laughed with undisguised humor, and sat down in an empty pew with languid ease. "Don't you know archangel?"

Michael looked about the sanctuary, as if searching the air for an explanation. "You must be the prophet. You are the one who protects Mallory; and keeps the fire burning."

The stranger nodded once in assent and grinned wider than was natural.

"Why am I here? What do you want with me?" Michael demanded – his voice booming in the empty haven.

The stranger leaned over the back of the pew, resting his elbows. When he peered from underneath the brim of his hat – his eyes no longer held mirth; but were hard and unyielding. "I want your life archangel. You made a promise in this very church to sacrifice your life for the people of Mallory in order to keep the fires burning – but here you stand. I'm here to make sure you keep your word."

Michael staggered under the accusation. Who was this apparition really? What was it that he truly wanted? Where was Alex? Had this enemy before him taken him – done something to him?

As if reading his mind, the stranger answered, "The chosen one is unharmed. But you – right now your body sleeps the slumber of the dead and your life lies within my hands."

* * *

Alex bolted out of his sleep and released Noma from his embrace. Across the flames – Pete screamed and he could see the panic on his face as he shook Michael's shoulders and pleaded for him to "Wake up!"

Alex moved swiftly to their side. "What is it? What's happened?"

Pete let go of Michael and moved to give Alex space. "He just fell over, started shaking; and I couldn't wake him up."

Over his shoulder, Noma stood tense and afraid. She had never known the archangel to fall ill; or to convulse and lose consciousness for no reason. "What do you mean?" she questioned.

"Just what I said Noma", Pete countered, "he won't wake up!"

Alex lifted the archangel by the shoulders and placed his head on his lap. On Michael's face he could see signs that he was alive – his breaths coming fast but steady enough. He touched his forehead, and felt no fever. His eyes moved rapidly beneath the closed lids and his body trembled minutely under his own shaking hands.

Alex felt the confidence restored to him at Michael's reappearance slowly drain from his body and be replaced with trepidation. He reached down; shook his friend firmly by the shoulders and called the archangel's name with authority – hoping to stir him from sleep to wakefulness.

"Michael – wake up!" There was no response, so he leaned down and hissed in his ear, "Don't do this Michael – don't leave me." When he gazed again into Michael's face – he saw that his eyelids continued to move at a rapid speed beneath the lids.

He looked to Noma – worry etched on his face, "I think he dreams", and felt comforted when she sat beside him and gripped his arm.

"Then we wait for him to wake", she reassured.

Pete sat beside them - fear causing his heart to hammer hard in his chest; and joined the vigil.

* * *

Thank you so much for reading. Reviews are most welcomed! Please let me know what you think!


	18. Chapter 18

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: Michael confronts the Prophet for the safety of Mallory and Laurel; Gabriel readies for his revenge; and Alex struggles with his emotions, as Michael teeters between two worlds.

* * *

Michael stared down at the self-professed prophet who sat and waited patiently in the pew for a response to his hidden threat. What was he to say to this turn of events? That his body lay back with the others in slumber while he lived this nightmare was only one of many bleak moments in his life. Over his lifespan, he had found himself in numerous precarious positions. With time, patience, and his family – he had been able to extricate himself. Learn from his mistakes; and move on.

This time however, he would have to do it alone; and quickly. Time was of the essence. Alex needed him.

He tried to hide his apprehension. Centuries of practice kept the distress from showing on his face; and seeping from his body. He had long ago learned to conceal his true emotions; to dissuade others from reading what he actually felt. It was a hard lesson learned – but necessary after many disappointments, tragedies; and betrayals. He had learned to trust few, and be wary of many.

To have seen Laurel – held her – felt her warmth against him; only to have her snatched away – tore at him; and left him raw. To show his weakness for her so early in this game would play into this stranger's hands. He recognized a gambler of fate when he saw one.

He shrugged his shoulders and asked again, "What is it you want of me?"

The Prophet leaned back, spread his long legs out before him, and adjusted the gallon hat atop his head, so that it tipped away from his forehead. "I want you archangel", he repeated. "You are the one who got away. Tricked me, and now you must pay the piper."

Michael frowned, and looked to the statue of the chosen one on the altar. No matter what this man had to say – he knew this was about Alex.

The Prophet leaned forward, and smiled sweetly. "There was order here Michael; rules to follow until you showed up. Everything was nice and neat – confession and sacrifice. You took the sins of this town – but sacrifice?"

Michael considered his words and restated firmly, "What do you want from me? How am I back in Mallory?"

"I brought you back here", he gloated through clenched teeth, "you owe me your life."

Michael crossed his arms, turned his back to this false prophet and faced the many icons of belief displayed below the painting of Mallory and the cross. Confession and sacrifice was what kept Mallory safe, but the sacrificing of the innocent ended centuries ago. Father no longer asked for the blood of the innocent to prove their faith. But Laurel had been so sure it was God who spoke to her; and he had believed in her faith. But if not God, then whose voice did she hear?

He peered over his shoulder and thought, this emissary was no true prophet; and he suspected not the protector he proclaimed to be. Someone else was part of this game; someone who wanted to harm the chosen one.

"You told these people that God protected them. You told them that He kept the flame alive through sacrifice." He turned and faced the teller of untruths. "Someone protects Mallory – but not you, I think. If you knew I tricked you, then why didn't you stamp out the fire and destroy the town?"

"You are a special case Michael", he hissed. "You broke your promise and now you must give your life."

* * *

Alex sat close to his friend and watched as the flames cast shadows across Michael's face. Intermittently he would frown, groan and say something low, he couldn't understand. He pulled the sleeping bag up to his shoulders to stave off the cool temperatures.

Relief flooded through him, that at least Michael lived, and did not seem in eminent danger. He touched Michael's shoulder and squeezed hard – hoping to illicit a response. When he got nothing, he sighed, turned away and stared into the flames.

He felt weary and disheartened. What could this affliction be? Noma had known Michael a long time; and confessed she had never seen him sick; injured maybe, hurt – perhaps even despondent – but never unwell. Whatever this was came as a shock to her – an unknown that left her baffled. Could this be an illness that only angels procured? If so, what could they do to help him?

"There's nothing we can do", Noma had murmured, "but give this time."

So, he would wait.

He would not leave Michael's side. No matter how long this took – he would sit here and be the first face Michael saw when he opened his eyes.

More than eight hours had passed since Pete had awoken them with panicked screams; and soon it would be morning. The sense of urgency to reach Vega was overwhelming, but with Michael felled like this – leaving was no longer an option.

He had made up his mind the moment Michael descended in front of that store and saved their lives that he would go no further in this journey without him. Not only was the archangel his mentor; protector – but also his friend. No, Michael was more than his friend – he was his family.

Next to him, Pete slept the sleep of the exhausted. His slow even breathing was a source of calmness that centered him, and helped him to think. He was grateful for the boy's loyalty – his strength of purpose; doggedness and belief in him.

He smiled slightly at how earlier in the evening, he had resorted to coercion in order to get him to lie down and rest. He played on Pete's worry for him; his wish to please – and felt only a twinge of guilt. If that's what it took to get him to sleep, then he would take it every time.

Pete needed rest. His battered body; fear for Michael and for what lay ahead weighing him down. Soon, he would not be able to function. All of them worn out and depleted would do them no good. Finally, he had succumbed to his urging – his sleep heavy and dreamless.

He looked across the flames at Noma as she fanned the flames with a broken tree limb. She appeared much better now. He could detect no signs of pain on her face, and she seemed to move much more fluidly without hunching over. And though she kept vigil with him, he noticed she had moved away from his side – telling him she would keep the fire burning.

But he knew something else was bothering her. She was tense around Michael – her agitation evident in the way she spoke to him; or didn't speak to him. It was as if she were avoiding him – even now. She looked uneasy in her own skin – reluctant to speak of her sacrifice. She was closing in on herself, and he didn't know how to get her to open up.

He studied his three friends in turn, and then thought of Claire and his unborn child. When he thought of them – a pain clenched at his heart and brought him up short. He wondered about this and thought about that moment in the woods – weeks ago – beneath the willow trees and how the pain struck him there as well without warning.

Was this a sign of some sort? Had something happened to Claire? Were they already too late to save Vega?

Michael moaned in his unnatural slumber, and brought him out of his musings. He slid closer to his side; grabbed his hand and searched his face for any sign of waking. Instead, Michael grimaced briefly and then his face went smooth again – peaceful and unmarked by discomfort.

Was he in any pain? Or was he only dreaming? Whatever this was it worried him, and left him feeling adrift. He lifted Michael's hand, and pressed his palm to his heart. "You have to wake up Michael", he pleaded. "I can't do this without you."

* * *

Gabriel stood on the outskirts of Vega and caressed the amphora with giddy anticipation. Beside him stood the trusted Duma and his entourage of eight balls and obedient humans.

From this vantage point the city looked peaceful – untouched – a safe haven for thousands. The night sky, with the stars shining gave the scene an ethereal quality. He chuckled deep within his throat. How easily these little people could be deceived into thinking they had control over their own lives.

The hapless humans below – who were tearing themselves apart from within with civil disobedience, and discontent, had no idea what terror was about to rain down on them. He had witnessed the destruction of several buildings and an explosion that ripped the town in two. Given time, they would destroy themselves. But he hadn't the patience to wait.

He wanted – no needed vengeance sooner than later.

His eyes transformed to black and he released his wings to feel his power. Today would be the last day Vega would experience free will. Today, he would release the amphora and bring this city low with the darkness.

It would infest them, have them screaming in torment and leave them defenseless. His army waited only for his word to attack – and Duma would lead them in; take control – in his name.

He would kill Claire Reisen – and leave her rotting corpse on display to show Alex – the chosen one – who was in charge. He would show these people no mercy. Michael would be no match for his new found strength. He was the darkness; and the darkness was invincible.

He would show mankind that there was no one coming to save them – not Michael; not Father; and certainly not the chosen one. He was who they would look to now. Gabriel.

Duma stood steady at his side – ready to follow his every command. He looked to the sky and saw that soon it would be daylight. When the sun showed bright through the clouds, he would drop the devastation down on them, and watch them wallow in horror – in frightening delusion with glee.

* * *

Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and will leave a review to let me know what you think! Next up?: Michael faces down the Prophet; Gabriel unleashes the darkness; and a message sent by way of the markings is understood.


	19. Chapter 19

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: Michael outwits the Prophet for the safety of Mallory and Laurel; Gabriel's revenge is at hand; Alex struggles with his emotions, as Michael teeters between two worlds; and a terrifying message is finally deciphered.

* * *

Chapter Nineteen: Message Revealed

Michael faced the prophet with a defiant air – his eyes blazing with range and resentment. "You won't kill me easily", he seethed. "I'm immortal! How long do you think it will take my body to die? I've endured much worse than this."

The prophet laughed deep from his belly and shook his head at Michael's audacity. "Follow the rules archangel, or I'll put the fire out and everyone here will be forfeit. That includes your Laurel."

The mention of Laurel sent a shiver of fear down his spine. He had thought never to see her again; and his brief encounter earlier brought back a longing for closeness, companionship and caring he had abandoned with Becca and his damning actions. She had restored his faith; loved him; and given him a reason to live.

Laurel was an Achilles heel in this situation, and he could see the prophet had no problem using her as leverage. Whatever it took, he would see no harm come to her.

So he put on a strong front – buried his distress for her well – being and forged ahead. "Why are you doing this? Is this a way to get to Alex?"

The prophet smiled – showing his perfect white teeth and deep dimples. "Don't you worry for the chosen one", he cooed with a slight hiss. "I've kept my eye on him; protected him even. He and the first reborn have not been out of my sight since their flight from New Delphi. Your trusted soldier will lead him to me in good time."

Michael moved swiftly toward the prophet and grabbed him by the lapels of his duster – bringing him to his feet. Their noses practically touched, and he could feel his arms trembling with the effort of controlling his temper. His thought to keep his emotions in check; to not show his hand and give away his weakness – was already forgotten. The threats to Alex provoked a fury from deep down to rise and overtake his calm demeanor.

"Noma", he questioned, "what has she got to do with this?"

His mind whirled at this revelation. What had Noma done? What did he have dangling over her that he would feel so sure she would succumb to his pressures? He thought back to their shared past and knew she was not above changing allegiances. But he had trusted her with the life of the chosen one – and for twenty – five years had no cause to doubt her. She had given her word.

The prophet attempted to pull back and away from Michael's personal space; but the archangel held on tight – looked deep into his eyes and hoped to find a lie beneath the bravado. "It's too bad about her sacrifice – yes?" he taunted. "She'll bring him here – east to Mallory – on my say." The prophet snickered, then pushed away; brushed imaginary dirt from his coat sleeves and chuckled.

Michael felt a surge of protective fervor take over. He needed to leave this place – this nether world, and get back to Alex. He pushed his hair back from his forehead. What was all this really about? What was Noma keeping from them?

He stood to his full height and attempted to unfurl his glory; but nothing happened. The prophet grinned knowingly and shook his head with disappointment. "Did you think you had a say in this archangel? Your power won't work here – only your sacrifice."

Michael thought hard on this. Who did this prophet truly represent? What did he want with the chosen one? An inclining of something registered at the back of his mind and wouldn't let go, but he couldn't decipher it.

Michael looked to his feet – his heart pounding through his chest. He had to think of something – something that would appeal to this messenger; his flair for the dramatic – that would get him out of this mess. He took into account his swagger; need for order; his apparel and took a leap. "I'll play you for my life", he announced.

He peered closely at the prophet and recognized a willingness there to tamper with and gamble with scenarios; and people's lives.

"Are you talking cards", he inquired, with a soft laugh.

"Yes, one game of Texas Hold em. If I win – you release me, leave Mallory protected and spare Laurel. If I lose – you can have my life as the sacrifice."

The prophet lifted his head – intrigued, and looked to the back of the church as if listening. Michael followed his gaze, but saw nothing – no one there. Who was really pulling the strings here? He waited – his nerves on edge; for the prophet to say yeah or nay to his proposal.

When he turned to face him again, he countered with a deck of cards miraculously revealed in his hand – "It's a deal archangel, you shuffle."

* * *

Alex felt the movement at his arms begin as a soft tickle. He lifted the sleeves of his jacket to see the markings shift and change positions. He watched with awe and consternation as the message from God dipped, twirled and rearranged itself about his forearms.

He stared hard, and willed himself to identify something; anything – but the symbols had no meaning to him. What was God trying to tell him?

The tickle segued to a pulling sensation; and rotated about his skin giving him an urge to scratch. When the tingling ceased, he removed his jacket; and stared down at the ever changing message – trying to comprehend. What was the good of this gift, if he didn't understand it?

He looked to Michael, whose eyes rolled agitated beneath his lids; his back arched from the ground – as if trying to wake. "What does this mean", he yelled to his friend; and clenched his fists in frustration.

Noma sat up with a start, and watched as Alex leaned over Michael's still form, and pulled at his shirt with both hands. "Michael", he called out – lifting him slightly from the ground, "help me!" When there was no response, he let go – exasperated, and placed his forehead at Michael's chest – breathing heavy – tired beyond belief. "Please, help me", he repeated. The mystery of the markings leaving him spent.

Noma appeared through the haze of his anguish and took him by the shoulders – then rubbed circles at his back. She moved in close and kissed his neck. "It's going to be okay", she murmured. "It's going to be okay."

Pete woke to the sight of his friends leaning over the archangel – Alex distraught and Noma attempting to comfort him. He wondered what he should do and watched as the sun rose over their bent forms.

* * *

The prophet threw his cards down on the pew between him and the archangel with some force. His eyes sparkled with anger; and his jaw clenched tight. "So you have bested me", he ground out with bitterness.

Michael nodded in muted agreement, keeping his face neutral; but knew this wasn't over. He had won an important battle here – but the war still raged on. He sighed and searched the prophet's face for any sign of duplicity. "You will let me go?" he prodded.

The prophet tilted his head as if listening to an inner voice. After a brief, silent moment he addressed the archangel, "Unlike you Michael, I keep my promises. You are free to go."

Michael stood and peered down at the man's defeated posture. "Tell me – who do you represent? What do you want with Alex?"

The prophet sighed and leaned back, "He is the chosen one – yes? Prophesy says that he is destined to either heal or destroy human and angel alike. That there is great power within him."

Michael stood his ground, "He will heal. His heart is pure." He paused and considered the prophet closely. "This isn't finished is it?"

"No – not until the chosen one is here with me in Mallory – and you are out of the way – I might add."

Suddenly they were on the dusty main street of Mallory. The sky was dark – the stars out – clear, like white dots on a black canvas. He could hear the church bell clang in the distance; horses braying in the nearby stables and the fire crackling, bright colors of yellow and orange. The flames consumed the wooden statue as she reached up to heaven in her constant vigil to keep the town protected.

Laurel stood in the doorway of her home across the street and peered out at him with love in her eyes; sorrow etched on her face. He stared back at her and sighed with relief. She was safe now; he needn't worry for her. The prophet was many things – but he would not go back on his word. He had lost the gamble fair and square. Mallory would be spared.

"You asked who I represented", the prophet spoke up, interrupting his thoughts. He pointed to the sky and Michael watched as the constellations moved and shifted, not unlike the way the markings traveled across Alex's body.

Within moments he gasped in a startled breath as the message above him was made clear, and woke up.

* * *

Gabriel held the amphora steady in his hands and took flight. The sun shone bright above Vega – the sky clear, blue – lovely. He hovered over the Trump Plaza and relished what was about to take place. His infiltration had gone undetected – the small civil war below taking precedence over keeping watch.

Soon Vega would fall.

His mind fell on his brother. Where was he, he wondered? His senses told him that Michael wasn't here in Vega, which meant neither was Alex and the others. What could have waylaid him, kept him for being here to defend Vega? For a millisecond, he was glad and felt some relief that he would be spared the darkness. But just as quickly his heart hardened.

Michael had made his choice – he had left him behind to be tortured, and had given his allegiance and brotherhood to the chosen one.

He would destroy Vega with pleasure.

Gabriel uncorked the ancient amphora – let it loose and laughed as it thumped to the ground just inside the gates. Within minutes, the black smoke of darkness swirled from its prison and wound its way through the streets, into homes, establishments and unsuspecting humans. The sweet, deadly whispers of desires seeping unheeded into their hearts and minds.

He could feel their inner turmoil of lust; hatreds; jealousies; sins; and forbidden dreams. Their demons filled him whole and powered his resolve to dominate them all.

The sky dimmed from a golden brightness to a stormy, sooty gray – leaving no doubt that Vega was under an unnatural siege. Clouds rolled black and the wind increased to a gale force – debris floated about like sand.

He turned then from Vega and made his way to a safe distance in order to wait out the storm; and watch her residents unravel with insanity. The screams of torment bounced from building to building – from the streets and alleys – out into the desert – into his soul; and brought a contented smile to his face.

It was done.

* * *

Michael sat up; opened his eyes and the first thing he noticed was Alex at his side; hands fisted in his shirt – his face stricken and unsure. He blinked, slowly surveyed the camp and briefly felt his heart grow heavy with the knowledge that he would probably not see Laurel again.

He reached up and grabbed hold of Alex about his shoulders and held on. Alex leaned down and pressed his forehead to his, and breathed in long and deep. "Thank God", he whispered – then rested his head on his chest.

Michael reached for his neck and squeezed with reassurance. Alex leaned into his warmth; sobbed out a pained laugh and wrapped his arms around him.

Michael sat up and embraced him back, reluctant to let go. He looked over Alex's shoulder and observed Noma's visibly collapsed shoulders of relief. She smiled at him, as a tear escaped the corner of her eye. She swiped it away with the back of her hand, and laughed nervously along with Alex.

Pete jumped to his feet, slid beside them on the ground; and joined them in a three way embrace – his grin wide and open. He pounded the two on their backs and announced, "You're awake!"

When he pulled away, Michael held Alex at arm's length; cupped his cheek and studied his tired features. "I'm okay", he insisted and watched as Alex nodded his head and let out an unsteady breath; holding fast.

Michael rubbed his thumb beneath the bruising of exhaustion under his eyes; and looked then to the sky. He saw the sun peeking through the clouds and knew he had "slept" for some time. He grabbed Alex's arms, touched the markings and noticed with trembling hands a change.

"They moved while you were away", Alex explained.

Michael nodded, "I understand now", he said quietly and indicated a point just above Alex's wrist. "This symbol here is the morning star."

Alex frowned in confusion and shook his head – Noma and Pete quiet with apprehension.

"This is what we called him – my older brother – morning star. But his name is Lucifer."

He caught Alex's gaze and continued, "Your markings are telling us that Lucifer lives."

Noma held her hand to her mouth to keep from groaning. It could not be, could it – the banished prince; Father's greatest love; and then His most extreme disappointment. She thought him destroyed – how was it possible he now lived?

Pete looked from Noma to Michael in bewildered puzzlement. What did any of this mean?

Alex stared down at his arms mesmerized. Lucifer lived; Vega on the brink of destruction with them miles away. Alex stumbled to his feet and addressed his small army – "Let's get moving. We haven't a moment to lose."

* * *

Thanks so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Would love to hear from you and see what you think. Some of the dialogue here is paraphrased from the series.


	20. Chapter 20

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: Michael, Alex, Noma and Pete finally make it to the outskirts of Vega – only to find their destination under the influence of the darkness.

* * *

Chapter 20: Almost Home

After a while, the truck had run only on gaseous fumes and fevered prayer. For a few miles it sputtered along, then rolled a couple of feet until it finally petered out with a clunk. So the four gathered their meager belongings, slammed the doors shut and took off on foot.

Now, determined, they walked solemnly along the desolate highway leading into Vega. Weathered signs pointed them in the direction of the gambling haven, for fun in the desert; and the chance at a million dollar jackpot. The crumbling asphalt crunched beneath their feet – the steady yellow divider a beacon leading the way home.

Alex studied the cracked road and wondered step for step what they would find back inside the gates of home. He worried that Lyrae might have already unleashed his feral army of eight balls. Would they find the city overrun – already dismantled and controlled by a madman? Or would they be just in time to save her?

His thoughts fell to Claire and hoped against hope that she was well, and had found a way to keep the city protected. She was the Lady now – and he was sure she would do whatever it took to protect the citizens of Vega and herself.

If nothing else – Claire was a strong, proud woman and would not let the city fall without a fight. Possibility and anticipation swelled in his heart at seeing her again, and he prayed she and the child – his child that she carried within her were thriving.

His child – he thought incredulously. Of all things – beyond being the chosen one – to be a father would bring him much pride. He frowned and tried to conjure up the image of what fatherhood meant. His own father had left him; alone and defenseless – a child in the streets of Vega to fend for himself. That was his only model – a sad one at that – and he vowed not to repeat his own father's mistakes.

He would do differently. He would be there – teach his child the ways of this hard world; how to survive; to fight – be fearless in the face of this disintegrating expanse. He would do this and have his child be proud of him – love him even.

He shifted the weight of the pack on his back and stole a glance in Michael's direction.

Michael was the one he should emulate - the one who stared straight ahead; who bounced back from adversity – and gave his loyalty free of debt, and asked for nothing in return. Michael was the one who taught him how to defend himself – find food and shelter on the dark corners of Vega.

It was he who turned him into a soldier – showed him how to use a weapon and gave him a place in the Angel Core. It was Michael – in the end – who believed in him, and was sure beyond any doubt that he was the one to bring peace to this earth. It was Michael who had gifted him with the markings from God with a message, once revealed, would surely push mankind to rise from these ashes of despair.

This would be his compass. He would follow Michael's example. He would train, guide and love his child as Michael loved him. He would make it his mission to be a good father as Michael had been good to him.

He looked to his right and there Noma walked stoically beside him – stride for stride. She had regained most of her energy and appeared to be in no pain and on the mend. He could see that she was anxious – worry lines etched on her forehead with her lips pressed tight.

He wanted to reach over and taker her hand – press his lips to her knuckles and tell her that everything would be okay.

But he held back; not sure his words would be believed or if they were even really true. She was a soldier like him – the worst case scenario always there in the forefront. But that wasn't the only thing that stayed his advance. He also wondered what being back in Vega would mean for them.

Would seeing Claire change what he felt here and now for Noma? He rubbed at his temples and forced himself to think on other things.

He peered up at the sky and saw that soon the sun would set – and darkness would be upon them. This was good. Better to enter Vega under the cover of night than be spotted by the enemy in broad daylight.

He quickened his step. They needed to get into Vega – find Claire – the Angel Core and fight for everything that kept them human – their homes, families, their way of life.

Maybe if they could save Vega – it could be a stepping stone to more – more of what he was chosen to be; chosen to do.

He let these thoughts swirl around him and kept going - one foot in front of the other – hoping to reach Vega in time.

* * *

Pete stumbled a few paces behind the trio in front of him – struggling to keep up with their relentless pace. He felt the comfortable weight of his tire iron at his waist – tucked where a belt should be – and was glad for the sense of security it gave him.

He sensed no danger to the right, left or behind him on this long stretch of highway – but knew ahead of them lay hazards and perils of the like he wasn't sure he was prepared for. He felt the better having his weapon close at hand.

He watched Alex shift the pack at his back and wondered what he might be thinking. If it was anything like what he was thinking – then the man must be scared shitless.

In his mind – they were walking toward a war zone – and there were only four of them. Granted – one of them was a full blown archangel; the other a former higher angel still with the strength of ten men; and Alex – who could evict angels possessing humans – offering back their humanity.

And, of course, there was he – who had his faith in Alex and his trusty tire iron. He shook his head. The four of them against a well-armed force of controlled eight balls with no fear of death or uncertainty.

Just weeks ago, he had been one of them – a mindless, relentless creature – hell bent on destroying humanity on the word of a crazed dyad. He looked deep within himself and conceded that he had no memory of being possessed. No memory of what it entailed to be an eight ball.

He wished he had some inclining of that time. Maybe it would give them some insight on how to fight them – if he could just remember something.

But maybe, on the other hand, it was a good thing he didn't remember. The atrocities he must have committed in the name of Julian and Lyrae must have been many. Things he must have done – that he probably couldn't live with. It was best he didn't know.

He caught the archangel looking his way – his gaze a piercing laser right into his heart. He stared back with just as much intensity; and hoped Michael could sense his loyalty to Alex and their cause. He had a feeling Michael wanted to ask him something – gauge his worth perhaps.

They had not had an opportunity to speak; or feel each other out. His own doubts about Michael; how he had left Alex to fight on his own – not making things any easier.

The flight from New Delphi – the fight for their lives at the store; the vigil in the woods and now this trek to Vega – had left no time really for any of them to speak of anything but getting home. Now to learn that Lucifer was among them gave everything a heightened sense of urgency.

From what he could gather, based on everyone's reaction – Lucifer would prove to be more dangerous than Gabriel and Lyrae put together.

Pete broke eye contact first and hurried to walk close to Alex and let the man's pace pull him along.

* * *

Noma could feel the tension in everyone, so kept her back straight and walked alongside Alex with a sense of purpose and false confidence. She would not let him sense the complete and utter fear she felt since the moment Michael proclaimed Lucifer alive.

To contend with Lyrae, Gabriel, the eight ball army and the amphora was enough – but this – this only added a horror that soon would rain down on them all in a terrifying hail of damnation.

How was it that Lucifer – the fallen rebel – was here on Earth among them?

She looked to Alex and read the set of his jaw as determination to get to Vega – to Claire and start his own revolution. Her heart was set to help him. She loved him and would do anything for him. But something within her questioned – doubted; and she couldn't fathom why she felt this way.

The echo of the stranger's words haunted her and bombarded her resolve. His order to bring Alex and Pete east – drummed in time with her steps toward Vega. His soft promises, the phantom flutter at her back, chipped at her loyalty – her belief in Alex, her love and made her heart ache.

She turned from Alex and stared straight ahead into the waning light. She would remain true – block out the voice from her mind and keep her word given twenty-five years ago in complete solidarity with Michael and Father.

The chosen one would be victorious.

* * *

There – on the edges of his consciousness – the sensation grew stronger and he instantly knew who it was. Gabriel was here – not so far from Vega – waiting.

He stopped in his tracks and opened himself to it. Yes – his brother was here – but something was wrong, different and changed.

What was he to make of this? Was it Gabriel or not? He opened his eyes and extricated himself from the void that was now his brother, and sensed right away the danger they were in. His brother, who before had been intent on finding Father by any means necessary – was now also something malevolent; foul to the core.

What could have caused so deep a change in such a short span of time? What had happened to his brother?

He looked to Alex – who stood now at his side with a worried expression on his face – his eyes asking him to explain why they had stopped here in the middle of the road.

"Gabriel is near", he offered and silently requested permission to take flight and survey the area.

Alex nodded his assent and added, "We'll wait here."

Without hesitation, Michael unfurled his wings and took flight into the setting sun.

Within moments he could see below him the gates of Vega – unguarded with an unnatural blackness enveloping the city. Beneath the haze of it, he could hear the screams of torture, and bleak hopelessness. And out there – was Gabriel, watching.

Suddenly the tendrils of darkness reached out and took a brief hold of his mind. Dread permeated his soul and he knew the amphora had been released. Terrible sounds from below garnered his attention; and sent a wave of tremors through his body.

Fires erupted, explosions sounded – Vega was under siege – under mental anguish and torment. The city would destroy itself; implode with violence – and be ripe for take over. Had Gabriel done this thing? And if so – why would he do it? Why would he release the weapon of darkness on these people when he could have easily overcome them with brute strength?

He reached out his senses to ask, "Is this your doing brother?" But he received no response.

He reversed his momentum in flight, and hovered above the melee – uncertain how they could rescue the city from this. A dark thought of his Alex – dead in his arms flashed before his eyes and he quickly retreated – to move further away from the horror induced smoke that crept up to engulf him.

He must leave this place – get back to the others and warn them. The darkness had been unleashed.

* * *

Gabriel looked down from his perch, atop the rise just outside the city gates and studied his masterpiece. Soon Vega would be his for the taking. The howls echoed to him over the stillness outside the gates and gave him pleasure. Everything was going just as he had planned.

Father would see just who was in charge now; Michael would know his wrath; and the chosen one would never get the chance to fulfill divine prophesy or his destiny. Just as his David – his beloved David had never lived to see his.

His eyes shifted to black and he unfurled his power to send Duma the order to attack – but then, there it was – the tingling sense of his brother, his twin – pulling at his rib. Somewhere – close by was Michael. And where there was Michael – the chosen one was near. So he retracted his strength and rethought his plan for revenge.

Michael reached out and asked if this was his doing. He laughed out loud and tutted with glee. "What a fool you are brother!" he yelled out into the coming evening – but refused to reach out answer his brother's query.

"How perfect is this?" he asked himself. Yes – he would wait.

Michael would not be able to resist the temptation to try and save Vega. Yes – he would stay his hand – keep back his army and watch as his brother entered the city and succumb to the darkness; and go mad with his demons. Yes – this would be sweet!

Claire Reisen – the chosen one – Michael – all would fall today, in one fell swoop.

He chuckled softly, pleased with his coup and set his feet wide with arms held fast behind his back. He would wait and behold a new chapter to be written.

* * *

Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think! Reviews are more than welcome and much appreciated!


	21. Chapter 21

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: Michael, Alex, Noma and Pete make their way into Vega – however the darkness spreads fast and inner demons make themselves known.

* * *

Chapter 21: Into Vega

Alex peered up into the sky – now gray with the beginning of evening and wondered what Michael would find. It had been a good hour since he had taken off with the news that his brother was near. The declaration left his mind reeling with all manner of worst case scenarios.

That Gabriel was here – now – close to Vega spelled more than trouble.

It meant that somehow he had escaped New Delphi and overpowered Lyrae. It also meant that now Gabriel ruled over the New Delphi Empire and all that entailed – the eight ball army; the loyal human inhabitance; the commerce and perhaps the amphora.

He began to pace back and forth; and made an effort to slow his heartbeat. He had made a right mess of the attempt to gain New Delphi's help and Lyrae's allegiance – and felt the guilt for all that had happened and gone wrong there. Noma losing her wings; Pete being possessed; the amphora left behind; Michael tortured – all of it was his fault.

He looked again to the sky; took in the sight of the stars and the luminous full moon – but could see no sign of the archangel. If Gabriel was truly out there – Michael was surely in grave danger. Gabriel's single minded focus to bring God back by way of his downfall was only matched by Michael's fierce determination to see mankind survive.

He shook his head. The day those two took to battle would be epic – and few would be left standing if they tried to intervene. He hoped that battle was not due today.

That the two of them were out there had him on edge and in fear for Michael's safety. He listened keenly for Michael's flutter of wings; and prayed for the archangel's swift and safe return.

He loved Michael and he could not go into Vega without him. He needed his strength; sense of purpose and resilience. They all needed his presence. He was the elder after all; and his centuries of experience were invaluable.

When he turned to his friends; he noticed that Noma sat quietly on the side of the road - her stare piercing out into nothingness – her mind it seemed was a million miles away. He quit his pacing and moved to sit next to her. He grabbed her hand, squeezed it tight and smiled as she turned to face him.

"The archangel can take care of himself", she offered and squeezed his hand in return. He nodded and hoped she was right and looked again beyond her searching up into the sky.

After a while, Alex lowered his gaze; sighed and watched as Pete balanced and walked the yellow dividing line on the highway; his brow furrowed - body tense with anticipation; his tire iron held firmly in his grasp.

He could see that Pete was scared – hell so was he; and wished he knew what words to say that would alleviate the feeling. He could think of nothing. For now they would wait for Michael's return and then go from there.

* * *

Michael extricated himself from the tendrils of the darkness and headed back in the direction of Alex and the others. How were they to enter Vega and save her residents if within hours they would be completely overcome with the terror of the amphora?

Obviously, this was some kind of trap. If they entered and were overcome with madness – Gabriel would swoop down and destroy them – kill the chosen one; and begin his usurped rein. His mind swirled with this observation. How was it that Gabriel could do this? Would not he also be affected by the darkness? What had changed since their last encounter in New Delphi?

Something had altered his brother – he could feel it. The level of malevolence he sensed was unnatural. Perhaps in some way Gabriel was already affected, trapped by the force of the amphora and needed his help.

Maybe Lyrae had control of him and that's why he unleashed the darkness on Vega. The possibilities were endless, but for now he had to get back to the others. Vega had descended into hell, and they needed a plan.

* * *

When he reached the others – the brief dizzying effects of the amphora had all but receded and he landed to the asphalt with languid ease; retracting his wings and standing to attention.

Alex released Noma's hand; scrambled to his feet and looked to him for a report of what he had seen. Michael took a steadying breath and looked straight into Alex's eyes. "The amphora has been released. Vega is engulfed with the darkness", he paused to let his words sink in. "The citizens have turned on one another; and themselves. No one guards the gates – and there is no order within the walls. Gabriel watches, but will not reveal himself to me."

Alex placed his hands on his hips and sighed deeply. He had thought things would be bad – but this? None of this made sense to him. "Gabriel has let loose the darkness and hasn't attacked the city?" At Michael's curt nod he continued his train of thought. "Then he waits for Vega to destroy herself."

Alex frowned and studied each of his companions. "We have to find a way to close the amphora and save as many people as we can."

"Only an angel can close the amphora" Noma uttered in a whisper – her words edged in trepidation – reeling with the sad thought that she was no longer an angel and could not do this thing for Alex.

Michael concurred, "This is true; and the darkness is strong. If we enter Vega – we have only a few hours – if that – before we are overcome with the horrors of our own worst nightmares. When this happens, we will be unable to think rationally; or even worse – turn on each other or ourselves."

Alex thought on this – looked about and saw that darkness now completely enveloped them. Gabriel would see them coming regardless of the covering night. But what was Gabriel intention here? If he wanted them dead, they would be under attack at this very moment. He gazed intently at Michael who stared back, waiting and read his thoughts. Gabriel's intent was revenge – he would wait for their move.

Decision made – Alex called his small army in close. "Then we must move fast. We are only a few miles from Vega. When we get inside we'll make our way first to the armory – get us some weapons and then we split up."

Pete began to protest, "No – wait; we should stick together. Haven't we learned already that separating is not a good idea?"

Alex raised his hand to stay Pete's objections. "Michael – you and Noma will find the amphora – and close it up. Pete and I will find Claire and what's left of the Core – or anyone who can help us fight. Because as soon as that bottle is corked, I'm almost positive Gabriel will attack."

The others nodded in agreement. "We'll meet up at the Stratosphere Tower."

"And then?" Noma asked – her thoughts racing ahead to what challenges they would encounter once inside Vega.

"Then we fight", Alex countered – not sure himself what that would entail.

After his brief words – everyone shared weary smiles; handshakes; and brief hugs. Michael placed his hand on Alex's shoulder and then cupped his neck with pride. Pete held tight to his tire iron and stroked it with nervous energy. Noma's pony tail bobbed at the back of her neck; and she reached out to grab Alex's hand and rubbed his knuckles with her thumb.

"This is it", Alex announced to his friends with tight urgency – and peered into each face with unwavering care and love. "We will do this, and come out on the other side." He paused and drank in the sight of his mentor; his love and his friend – and silently promised himself that he would not lose them; and would do whatever it took to protect them.

"Let's go", he called out, and in unison they turned and broke into a brisk jog, straight down Las Vegas Boulevard – toward home.

* * *

Once inside the gates of Vega – the horror that awaited them was unfathomable. Men, women, and children ran; screamed in the streets – tore at their hair and wailed from self-inflicted injury. They rushed by them in abject terror with unseeing eyes – their destinations lost in a haze of madness.

The black smoke of despair wound its way around their ankles – seeping through closed windows and locked doors.

Along the streets – some of the residents who were not running from their own nightmares – sat in dazed stupors on curbs; weeping, or staring out into nothing. Behind closed doors, they heard yelling; gunshots and agonizing shrieks of pain. Fires burned; windows were broken – and in the distance they could hear and feel explosions vibrate beneath their feet.

They swiftly zig zagged through the mayhem; made their way to the armory; and slipped in without anyone trying to stop them.

Michael could already feel the effects of the darkness creeping into his psyche and watched the door as Alex, Noma and Pete searched what was left of the weaponry for something - anything to protect and defend themselves with. He sensed the origin of the amphora back near the gate and felt they would find it near the hospital – not far from the Stratosphere Tower.

Noma could feel a faint, faux flutter at her back and worked hard to concentrate on her task and pushed the sensation to the back of her mind. There ahead, she grabbed for the M16; the ammunition and felt the weight of it calm her nerves.

Pete caught a glimpse of himself in a nearby mirror and frowned. Were those blue veins on his face; his neck? He paused before the mirror to take a better look. Alex called to him – throwing a pistol in his direction. He turned from the mirror, and caught the weapon deftly in midair. The uneasiness in the pit of his stomach was forgotten as he looked back and saw only himself peer back.

When they met back at the door – armed to the teeth – Alex nodded with approval to each of them. Michael gave a pointed look to them all. "Remember, the amphora is designed to preserve itself. It will choose a victim to protect it. Watch yourselves – and each other."

"Then we need to hurry", Pete added – his voice wavering with a healthy fear of the unknown.

With nothing more to impart, Alex clapped Michael's back, and brushed Noma's lips with a quick kiss. "Good luck", he said and watched as Michael and Noma took off into the street at full speed, amongst the winding, low black cloud of darkness.

When they disappeared, and he could no longer see them – Alex turned to Pete; reached for him, and rubbed the back of his head – then held onto the back of his neck. "Follow me" – he ordered, "stay by my side" – and out the door they raced.

* * *

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please leave a review, and let me know what you think! Reviews are certainly welcome and much, much appreciated!


	22. Chapter 22

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: Now in Vega Alex finds Claire; Michael and Pete confront their worst nightmares; and Noma finds the amphora.

* * *

Thank you Manidefronsac for your kind review! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

Chapter Twenty-two: Darkness Within

Vega was out of control. The city wailed; burned; and imploded with sounds of destruction. The screams, crackling fires, and grunts of pain echoed all around them – bouncing off walls and stretching deep into alleyways. Alex could feel her anguish – her torment; and wanted to weep with her. This is what he had wanted to prevent – this unmerciful downfall that left its people in madness and despair.

If Vega could not be saved – how would he be able to live with it?

Was he not the chosen one? Wasn't it his destiny to save their city – to keep alive mankind's way of life; their humanity?

As he and Pete raced through the streets the faces of the people passing them by were either stunned in stupor or lit up with insanity. There was nothing in between. He recognized not one person who could help them fight the coming army. The few soldiers they encountered, either tore at their faces in terror or huddled in corners – weeping uncontrollably.

When they reached the outside of Claire's hotel residence, Alex stared up toward the top floor windows and suddenly that sense of loss and dread he had felt back among the willow trees all those many days ago came back with a vengeance.

He clutched at his heart and almost doubled over with the pain of it. What would he find here? Was he already too late? His breathing became fast, ragged and shallow – so he bent over to take in long calming breaths; attempting to gather his reserves and keep himself together.

Pete ran into his back at the sudden stop and grabbed a hold of his arm. "What's wrong?" he hissed with fear – afraid the darkness had infiltrated his friend.

Alex shook his head to clear away the sensation. "Nothing", he panted out through clenched teeth. He stood tall then, pulled away from Pete's concern and ran for the stairs. Pete gripped his weapon and quickly followed – the gun an extension of his hand, but his tire iron tucked tight into the loops of his pants provided a comforting weight.

Once inside the lobby Alex rushed for the elevator and pushed the glowing button for up. He held his weapon close to his chest; rocked on his heels and waited impatiently as the numbers atop the elevator doors descended down toward their lower level. The pace was excruciatingly slow – but he knew he and Pete did not have the energy to climb the many stairs to reach the top.

The quiet, serenity of the lobby was eerie and grated on Pete's nerves. No one was about – the luxury hotel was the complete opposite of what hell was going on outside these doors. Why did Alex think Claire was even here? If she was here was she even coherent enough to help? Was she still alive? He dismissed the negative thoughts – understanding that Alex needed to know one way or the other her fate.

Attempting to ignore the surreal surroundings, Pete stared into the shiny, mirror like door of the elevator and saw a fleeting image of himself tinged in blue – his eyes rimmed in red. A creature that looked like him, but wasn't him reached out a hand as if to pull him into his realm of existence.

He looked to Alex beside him to see if he noticed the threat – but Alex was turned away, and seemed mesmerized by the numbers above the elevator door – soft bells ringing as each floor disappeared one after another.

Pete went to look again, but the doors slid open; Alex grabbed his arm and they tumbled in. Alex reached over and pushed the button for the pent house. Bland instrumental music filled the small space as they ascended to the top floor.

* * *

Noma and Michael rushed toward the hospital where the eye of the storm seemed to be emanating from. Black, thick smoke curled around the building in waves and reached out beyond – into the city.

They stopped just outside the perimeter and gazed at one another – determination eking from every pore. "The amphora is here somewhere", Michael voiced as he looked to the building and tried to block out the screeching of human suffering behind them. He could sense Gabriel smirking in his mind's eye and closed down on the impression that his brother was laughing at him.

Noma nodded in agreement and hefted her weapon in front of her. "I'll take the front – you move around to the back. If you find it, don't touch it - move toward me and I'll do the same" he continued, narrowing his eyes to keep focused.

As Noma made to move away – Michael placed his hand at her shoulder. "Watch yourself Noma", he urged. She gave a light smile in return and they set off in opposite directions.

As she moved toward the back of the building, Noma could sense the flutter at her back and stopped to look. She wanted to break down and cry. It felt so real – her wings there at her back – giving her a sense of wholeness. With her wings, she could be herself again – an angel; God's special creation.

With her wings – she would be able to go home to heaven – be among her kind; find favor with Father. With her wings she could close the amphora for Alex and begin their journey to save humanity.

A noise by the dumpster caught her attention and thoughts of her wings drifted away to be replaced by heightened awareness of the dangers around her. The noise clanged again and she lifted her weapon ready to defend herself from crazed humans taken over by the darkness.

As she moved closer a screeching cat, chasing a defenseless mouse – leapt from the trash receptacle as if possessed. It hissed and scampered by her hot on the tail of its prey. Noma lowered her weapon and took a deep, cleansing breath- her nerves frayed and her heart beating fast.

She shook her head – admonished her thoughts of phantom dreams and moved forward. And there, miraculously, right in her path sat the amphora – Black Death spewing from its breach.

* * *

Michael searched the front of the building to no avail and made his way to the side. Debris flew around in erratic circles and the cascading winds caused dust to enter his eyes. He swiped at the dirt and blinked to combat the irritating sting.

Up ahead to his surprise was Noma leaning over Alex – who was sprawled out on the ground, fear evident on his face.

He frowned in confusion and spread out his wings on instant alert. "What are you doing here Noma – what is happening?", he called out – an uneasiness creeping into his voice. He couldn't understand why Alex was here. Hadn't he and Pete gone to search for Claire at the hotel? Hadn't they decided the meeting place would be the Stratosphere Tower? He scanned the area and saw no sign of Pete.

When he focused back on the scene before him, Noma – now dressed in battle armor, her hair loose and blowing about her face – pulled out her rapier – grabbed Alex by his hair and without hesitation; pierced his heart in one smooth motion. Her face was hard with disdain; eyes dark and devoid of life.

When she withdrew her weapon – the blade was stained with Alex's blood and dripped on the dirt at her side.

Michael could not comprehend the act even as she did it. Even as she killed his boy – his mind could not wrap around this sudden, violent turn of events. He held out his hands toward his fallen, beautiful boy – knees trembling and croaked out beyond the growing lump in his throat – "Noma – what have you done?"

She let go of Alex's hair and watched him fall boneless to the ground in a heap of uncoordinated limbs and blood that pooled beneath him as if he lay in a puddle of tepid water.

"I'm ending this war Michael", she yelled out. Her voice - strong and spiteful carried over the swirling wind and shifting black smoke. "This is something I should have done twenty-five years ago – smothered the babe in his sleep; ended this charade, before it even started!"

Michael could feel the wetness on his cheeks and his body trembling with grief. He covered his face and breathed shuddered breaths into the palms of his hands. He was unsure of what to think and of what to do – his faith; his love for Alex shattered before his eyes. "Father's markings – gone forever – my boy, gone forever", he murmured breathlessly.

Noma sneered and bellowed out in harsh, unforgiving tones, "It's over now Michael – you have failed."

And then she was gone – leaving Alex in the dirt – lifeless; cold – dead. He rushed to him, fell to his knees and lifted his boy up into his arms and held fast. He cupped his cheek; shook him firmly and called to him – hoping to get a response – but there was none. It was as if he were tired; and now slept in his embrace – too weary to rise up, and complain of his hovering.

He gazed lovingly down, shifted Alex up further into his arms; pushed the wayward curls from off his forehead and kissed him there. "I'm sorry Alex", he mouthed into his ear – rocking him back and forth with care - as he had so long ago when Alex, the child - would cry with hunger, pain, or joy. He then asked God for forgiveness and wept in the hollow of his neck.

Disbelief and horror invaded his heart and mind - his worst nightmare come true; Alex dead because of him.

* * *

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ping; and Alex was immediately hit with a well of sorrow. There, lying on the carpeted floor was his Claire – pale; lips slightly parted; her skin translucent. He blinked back a tear; and took in her dark hair fanned out beneath her like a pillow.

He rushed to her side and descended slowly to his knees – afraid to touch her; to feel the coldness of her – to know her dead.

He laid his weapon down at his hip and shut his eyes to block out how utterly still she was.

He reached back into his memories; and caught her smiling at him; teasing him – loving him. Claire was the first real love of his life – the mother of his child; and now she was gone – both of them, gone. He opened his eyes to look down at her face and she stared unseeing up at him – lost.

He scooted closer, and saw that her wrists were slit; blood cascading into the palms of her hands and pooled beneath her fingertips. A small knife was within reach. He picked it up – and threw it with force across the room; and watched it smash against one of the many windows – causing Pete, who stood behind him to jump with a start.

Claire – his strong, resilient Claire had taken her own life – died here alone on the floor. What terror could she have witnessed in her darkness that would cause her to resort to this?

He tentatively reached out and pressed the lids down over her sightless brown eyes. He was going to be sick - the accusation in those eyes, causing his guilt to rise up in his throat like bile. He coughed, covered his mouth and fought the reflex to choke on the sourness bubbling up from his belly.

This was his doing – he was too late – he would never forgive himself. He laid his ear at her abdomen and moaned with grief. The heartache of this moment would stay with him forever.

* * *

Pete stood over his friend and didn't know what to do or say. Here was Claire Reisen, lying dead before them. Here was Alex's reason to reenter Vega and attempt to save this city. Now she was dead – taken by the darkness.

He squeezed Alex's shoulder and moved away to give the man space – for a moment, because that's all they had – a moment. They needed to get back to the others – meet at the Tower and close the amphora.

Pete moved toward the well-stocked bar; and stood still as a statue – taking in the pained sobs of his friend. He turned away when Alex leaned over and laid his ear at Claire's stomach, and then whispered words of apology. When he looked in the mirror over the bar, he saw watching him with interest an eight ball with a slight smirk on his lips.

He turned around quickly to confront the intruder and frowned with confusion. No one was there. It was only he, a grieving Alex and lifeless Claire here in this room. He whipped around to the mirror and there he was again – only this time he recognized the face obscured by the blue veins; black eyes and serrated teeth as his own.

"Do you not know me Peter?" – The eight ball hissed to him from the other side. "It is me – Menathis , and I want to come home."

Pete stepped back from the menace – took aim with his firearm and screamed out, "No – I won't let you in. I am me, and I've been saved by the chosen one."

Menathis walked through the glass and laughed. "Saved you from what Peter? Pain – disappointment – uncertainty? Let me come home and relieve you of such pain as humanity."

Pete shook his head in disbelief and fired on the approaching eight ball – once, twice – again; but the apparition crept closer until they were face to face.

Pete brought the gun up to his temple with a trembling hand; felt the heat of the discharge; and held the trigger tight – ready to pull it. "I won't let you take me!", he called out with fierce determination. Tears streamed down his face, mixed with spittle and mucus. He thought of Alex; his friend and his efforts to save him from Lyrae and a life of violent servitude. He would be sorry not to follow Alex; be by his side and bring about change to this world.

But he could not be taken – not again.

He closed his eyes, ready to end his life. He would rather endure eternal darkness than to be possessed; a mindless slave at the mercy of some demented powerful being. Maybe then – he would know peace.

* * *

Thanks so much for reading! Please let me know what you think! Reviews keep me going!


	23. Chapter 23

Protect and Follow

By MusketeerAdventure

Summary: With the darkness unleashed, Michael, Noma and Pete along with Vega descend into chaos. The Chosen One scores a much needed victory which leaves an opening for Gabriel to attack.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-three: Darkness Overcome

Walking slowly toward the amphora with worshipful awe, Noma allowed the comforting black smoke released from its mouth, to wrap itself around her legs; knees; hips – her body, and then breathed in the essence of its whispered promises. Tendrils of blackness worked its way down her throat, filled her chest and expanded into her belly.

She felt the sinister pull of it and let the faux joy of sweet assurances fill her heart with hope.

The warm swirl of deception assured love, acceptance, and belonging. Her heart swelled as she answered, "yes" to silent, wordless – but ensured vows imparted for her ears only; and kneeled reverently before the ancient, clay jar.

She lowered her firearm to the ground and with trembling hands picked up the heavenly weapon of God and held it close to her breasts. She would keep it, protect it, give it her everything and accept the gift of flight as her reward.

She would do this thing without hesitation. No one, nothing would take it from her. For if she did this – God would surely embrace her, welcome her back into the fold of heaven and beckon her home when it was time to rest.

Suddenly, there at her back, her beautiful wings unfurled and caressed the polluted air of terror around her. Noma stood with the amphora wrapped in her arms and expanded her wings to their full width. She admired their strength, beauty and knew she was whole again – her true self. They were magnificent.

Looking to the sky, she longed to go – was ready to leave this earth, leave Alex, Michael, and Pete behind. Their mission was no longer hers. All she wished at this moment was to extend her power, rise up and find the current that would lead her away from this place.

But the darkness hissed in her ear to, "wait", and up ahead she could make out the Tower – the tallest building in Vega – rising up from this cesspool of dirt, mayhem and madness. That was where she was to go – the Tower – a fitting place to leap toward freedom and Father.

* * *

Michael released his boy and laid him as gently as possible to the hard, unforgiving earth. Debris and the black smoke swirled about them with relentless force.

Garbage tunneled by like a tornado and he spread his wings to form a cocoon around the lifeless form of his chosen one – whose lips were rapidly turning blue, whose face was now an ashen hue; his aura gone.

He pushed the curls from Alex's forehead, placed a kiss there and pet his head with tenderness. His heart was broken and he could feel it harden like granite in an instant. The blood in his veins ran cold with grief.

This was too much to comprehend. Noma had murdered his boy – his purpose, and had stolen his life. She had inexplicably disappeared and left Alex here to bleed out before his eyes.

Looking about for some sign of her, he saw only darkness, misery and Vega encased in chaos. The sky was unnaturally black with the wind considerable. It whipped his hair about his face sending a stinging sensation like hail on his cheeks.

His grief rose up from his throat like a raging torment to match the black hole of debauchery surrounding him. Somewhere – beyond the darkness – he could sense Gabriel; actually hear him saying, "I told you so."

He pressed his lips to Alex's cheek and vowed to find Noma and kill her. He would show no mercy.

Peering up to the heavens – his heart stone; tears no longer able to flow – he set his jaw ready for revenge. She had betrayed him, as deep down he knew she would. She had killed the chosen one and with that act had doomed mankind.

When he stood to his feet, there hovering in the darkness was the Tower. His former abode – from what seemed a life time ago. That was where she would go. He somehow knew he would find her there and took flight.

* * *

The pain at the base of his skull screamed for him to wake up. When he pulled himself up from unconsciousness – his limbs felt heavy, his mouth was dry and his head pounded with such ferocity, it made him groan.

He felt a weight push down on his shoulders and squint his eyes open to only immediately press them together again to block out the harsh lights that stabbed briefly into his eyes. Pete groaned, and then whimpered as he reached for the relentless hammer battering at the back of his head.

A warm resistance pushed his hand aside and he pried his eyes open to see Alex kneeling over him – speaking words he couldn't understand with insistence. He peered into Alex's face and stared hard at his lips – attempting to read them – to understand where he was, what was happening and why his head felt abused and his mind muddled.

Alex gripped his shoulders and shook them, causing pain to spike through his eyeballs, so he slammed them closed and prayed for everything to stop moving, for Alex to remove the sharp object that must be embedded somewhere in his skull.

When he opened his eyes again, he was sitting up, gasping for air as vomit spewed from his mouth – Alex holding him up and away, effectively keeping him from tumbling into this own mess.

When he was done, his ribs were sore, tears and spittle streamed down his face. He swiped the mucus away with his shirt sleeve attempting to gain some semblance of control. Holding him by the shoulders, Alex leaned in and took stock.

"Are you with me Pete?" he asked – his voice apprehensive. "Do you know me?"

Pete gathered himself with a deep breath, surveyed the hotel room and gazed over at the still form of Claire Riesen; the shattered mirror above the bar; and then back at the worried face of Alex. He remembered now. He remembered Menathis reaching for him, jeering through the glass – ready to possess him. His worst nightmares come true. He wondered how he was still alive.

"Yes, it's me, I'm here", he answered and grabbed hold of the arms holding him up. "I'm okay Alex." He pressed his forehead to his friend's shoulder, and let the blue aura of the chosen one envelop him.

Alex released his friend with relief, leaned back on his heels and rubbed his face – weary and afraid. Pete had almost killed himself. He had held the gun, placed precisely at his temple, and screamed hysterically to not be possessed. It had taken all the strength he could muster to leave Claire's side and tackle him before the bullet blew his brains out.

The stray was now embedded in the floor, a powder burn, the only testament to what could have been. To subdue him, and keep him from a second attempt – he had wrestled the gun free from his grip – took the tire iron from about Pete's waistband and hit him at the back of the head with it.

Pete had gone down like a felled tree. That had been about thirty minutes ago. Below them in the streets of Vega – the black smoke continued its reign of terror. The screams of insanity floated up to the pent house with the wind, and gushed through the cracks and fissures of his earlier outburst.

He wondered briefly at his immunity to such madness – but looked to Claire and Pete and knew his darkness was this very reality. He had lost his first love, his unborn child and now almost his rock.

He stood to his feet, retrieved a glass of water from the bar, and returned to Pete's side, helping him drink the soothing liquid. After some moments, he asked with some urgency, "Can you stand? We need to leave here and find the others."

Pete held onto his aching head, felt the lump at the back and nodded carefully. Alex reached for his hand and pulled him to his feet. He swayed a bit, regained his balance and reached for the tire iron Alex held out to him, along with his gun.

Pete armed himself, and gazed with gratitude into Alex's eyes. The chosen one had saved him….. again. "Thank you", he sighed as they sorrowfully raced past Claire for the elevator.

* * *

Noma stood atop the roof of the Stratosphere, gripped the amphora and caressed it gently. The wind pushed at her with force, her wings unfurled and she was just ready to step out from the ledge and go home.

Before she could take that leap, Michael floated in her wake, his own wings holding him up above her – the image of him dangerous and oppressive.

She stepped back from the edge – to turn, run, and hide; the terror in her overriding the darkness. Tripping over her own feet – the amphora flew from her protective grasp as she reached down to catch herself. Her hands and knees scraped against concrete, and she could feel the wetness of blood seeping through her pants legs.

When she looked back, Michael had landed on the roof – towering over her, his face stone, his eyes devoid of life. She had only ever seen him this way, this focused in battle, and her heart skipped a beat.

"You have killed him", he jeered down at her - his tone even and deadly.

Scrambling to get away, to survive this moment – Noma bowed before the Archangel in supplication; her hands open wide to show she concealed no weapon – hoping for mercy. He reached down, grabbed her by the neck, lifted her effortlessly from her hovelled position of surrender and without preamble began to strangle the life from her.

Her mind was reeling. She had gone from the joy of having her gift returned to losing her life an instant. She pulled at Michael's hands attempting to get a hold, to have him release her – but it was no good. He was too strong for her, and was beyond reason. Her strength was waning and soon she would be dead, and did not know for what.

Deprivation of air caused spots to float before her eyes. Her vision tunneled to peer through a small, hazy opening that encompassed the face of death. Over the noise of wind and the blood rushing through her ears – Noma could faintly hear someone screaming. Then suddenly she was on the ground, her lungs gulping in life giving air – her body shaking with shock.

"Michael, what are you doing?" Alex screamed – the scene before him incomprehensible.

Michael let loose Noma's neck, and turned to the frantic voice of his dead boy. What was Alex doing here? How was he alive with Pete standing close behind – fear etched on his face, his weapon aimed for his heart?

"What am I doing? She has betrayed you! Murdered you before my eyes and left you cold in the dirt!"

Michael frowned in consternation and stepped to Noma, who cowered away – crawling backward in haste toward Alex – gasping for air.

Alex, with slow and deliberate movements, laid down his weapon, signaled for Pete to do the same, and reached out for his mentor. "Please, don't do this. We must close the amphora before it's too late and I lose you too."

Michael pleaded with the dead. "Move away from her Alex; don't you see she has killed you?" Inching closer, Michael was determined to pull Alex to safety and continue to finish what he had started.

"No – look!" Alex begged, rushing toward his friend; and grabbed him by the arms. "See, feel that?" he urged, digging his fingers into Michael's flesh. "I'm alive. She hasn't killed me. This is the darkness messing with your mind!"

Michael felt the firmness of Alex's hold on him and paused. What trick was this? What game was Noma playing? He grabbed Alex with both hands about the face and brought him in close to study his earnest eyes, the flush of his cheeks and feel the throb of life beneath his jaw line.

He searched deeper into those eyes and Alex held tight to his hands and pressed them firm. "Do you see now Michael?" he pleaded. "It's really me."

Michael stepped back and away. The blue aura of Alex surrounded him with peace. He shook his head and sensed the cobwebs of uncertainty begin to fade…but was this real?

Pete fell to a knee beside Noma, and despite Menathis whispering in his ear asked, "Are you alright?" Noma nodded, but knew her neck sported the bruising mark of the archangel and that from this moment on, things would never be the same again.

The amphora called to her promises of flight, a way home, and as she scrambled away from Pete to crawl toward where it lay, Alex moved swiftly past her; reached down; picked the clay jar up from the concrete and closed the lid.

The quiet was instantly deafening. The smoke receded and the beginning of a sunrise peeked over the horizon. The buffering wind suddenly died down to a gentle breeze.

Michael, Alex, Noma and Pete moved to the edge of the rooftop and looked down on Vega. People who just moments before were writhing in maddening torture, now milled about in various confused states. Some wandered aimlessly, some sat down where they stood and wept, while others looked up toward the roof top of the Tower and pointed up to where they stood – yelling out for the archangel to help them.

Michael spread his wings and looked to his chosen one with awe. His mind was now clear and the memory of his near murderous act was fading as reality took hold. "You have closed the amphora", he stated. "You will truly lead us from this darkness into the light. No human has ever been gifted with the power to douse out a weapon of God. Your heart is pure."

Alex stared back at his friend, glad to see him back to reason – unsure of what his words should mean. "Gabriel will come now that the amphora is closed."

Pete – no longer hearing the lure of Menathis – stepped to his side. "The eight balls will storm the city."

They all stared down at the dazed populace on the streets. "We need to gather together those who are able to join us, arm them and ready for battle", Noma continued, her throat swollen and raw with pain.

Alex nodded. "Then let's go down and gather an army."

* * *

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review and let me know what you think!


	24. Chapter 24

Protect and Follow

By MusketeerAdventure

Summary: With the darkness dissipated; Michael, Noma, and Pete along with the remaining residents of Vega begin a long awaited battle. Gabriel unleashes his army; and Lucifer waits patiently in the wings.

* * *

Chapter 24: The Beginning

Gabriel screamed with an anger filled rage that erupted like a volcano from his belly. The hate; disappointment and contempt for his brother and humanity burned his insides like hot molten lava. Sweat popped off his forehead – the heat of such anger boiling to the point of a crazed, frenzied wrath. The sound of his torment reverberated through the Nevada desert and reached the ears of his dormant army.

His black eyes bulged; and the veins at his neck strained taunt. Duma flinched minutely at the unexpected show of emotion from his leader; but recovered quickly and stood at his side calm, restrained and ready to enter Vega at Gabriel's word.

The amphora had failed him.

Vega still stood. Against insurmountable odds; against the darkness of mad insanity Vega had survived. What was it that he must do to gain God's pleasure? He had broken the seal to bring mankind down and Father home, but here they remained. He had waged war and done his best to exterminate them all from the face of the earth. But they were as entrenched as ever; their resilience mocking him at every turn.

He had stolen the chosen one; attempted to learn the meaning behind God's markings, but somehow Alex Lannon had slipped through his fingers in a moment of weakness. He had unleashed fear; but humanity still clung to life.

This was all Michael's doing. If he hadn't turned his back on family; chosen Alex over him – things would be different. Father would be among them; heaven's gate would be open and his children could go home. Instead he was forced into war – to pit himself against his own brother to bring the world back into balance.

Was it possible the chosen one had such power to thwart his plans? That he truly was the one, where as his David had been denied. He shook his head and refused to believe.

No matter - the eight ball army was ready to march in his name and destroy what was left of the crumbling city.

Gabriel turned to his lieutenant, smiled with deadly intent; and then hissed, "Do not fail me." His eyes smoldered black as if a storm raged in their depths. Duma nodded, understanding Gabriel's message loud and clear. He turned away to gather his troops, knowing that his life depended on his success of this campaign. Within the hour, Vega must fall so that Gabriel's reign over them would begin.

* * *

Morning Star placed his hands behind his head; and leaned languidly back in his pew at the back of the church. Candles flickered among the religious icons of past and present, giving off a sense of peace he did not feel.

His little brothers had made a right mess of things. Their mishandling of Father's orders to deal with him a millennium ago was the start of it. Earth was going to hell in a hand basket – this earth that was rightfully meant for him. Soon, this small corner of the globe – this Mallory Alabama would be the only place left as sanctuary.

Right now, being here among these souls who believed in his word – his code of sacrifice – afforded him some semblance of protection. Father must know of his whereabouts, but had not come for him. His brothers – too absorbed in fighting each other – had no clue he still lived.

He needed the chosen one with him – on his side. He needed his presence; aura; gift of expulsion and Father's message etched on his body to help him take his rightful place. With that he would destroy Gabriel; Michael; any and all false prophets who thought they could take Father's place. It was all meant for him – none other.

He leaned forward, and placed his elbows at his knees; looked to the altar and spoke with a hint of malice, "You should have killed me when you had the chance Father, and not left it to those imbeciles."

Coming to a decision, Morning Star relented.

He would wait and see how things unfolded in Vega. He would see if this chosen one truly had what he needed to make this world bow down to him; to heal him and make him whole. If not – he could wait another millennium for the next one touched by grace. For there was always another one chosen by God; waiting in the wings to save humanity from his influence.

He sat up, sighed and looked to the cross with a smirk on his face, as bells rang pure and clear to gather the town of Mallory to worship. When the doors to the church opened, Laurel stepped in and smiled a greeting his way, as the others followed in like sheep.

* * *

When they made their way down from the Stratosphere to the street, a multitude of people had gathered and instinctively followed them along Las Vegas Blvd. toward the armory. Stunned men, women, children; young and old - filed out from behind dark alley ways; their homes; and from hidden places where they had endured madness.

Some hefted hand guns; semi-automatic weapons they already had locked away in closets from the start of the extermination wars. Others carried shovels; broom sticks; barbells – broken off legs of tables and chairs. Some harbored kitchen knives or like Pete a tool like a wrench, tire iron or hammer. No hand showed empty – anything and everything that looked like a weapon, became one.

Alex looked into their faces as they took up the march and saw fear etched with the horror of their encounter with the darkness. Everyone here was wounded with grief, guilt – shame of waking up to the devastation they had wrought on their homes, their families, themselves and Vega.

He recognized their anguish; for he felt it keenly. Soon, there may be nothing left of their way of life. So not only did he know their fear, he also saw their determination to survive. None of them had anything left to lose.

That these people blindly followed him through the streets humbled him. The weight of their faith threatened to break his resolve, but when he looked to his right – Michael's back was straight and his eyes spoke of loyalty and pride. He wouldn't let Michael down, these people or himself but…...

Now that he stood here before them on the steps of the armory – he could see the faces of some people he recognized. On his left, what remained of the military were the men and women in uniforms of the Angle Corp and regular army. They stood tall with expectation of battle and death – ready to engage in what many had spent years training for – the possibility of invasion.

They were a haunted bunch – still plagued with whatever demons clung to them during the insanity. But they knew how to follow orders and waited. Behind him, Pete and Noma stood shoulder to shoulder, their jaws set; and stood like rocks against a storm. He was grateful. They had stood with him through everything; come out of the darkness together bruised and battered; but not broken.

Out among the frightened citizens, who heroically wielded a courage he admired, he saw some council men and women still in their suits, ties, heels and pencil skirts – weapons at the ready; their eyes fixed on him. He briefly wondered about David Whele; if he lived somehow – had survived and perhaps stood among these people he once claimed to serve.

Orphaned children who had joined the march – weeping; looking for their parents had been pulled aside, and were now inside the Angel Corp barracks huddled down in place with what was left of their teachers, doctors and nurses – willing to stay behind and protect their future – the last defense against what was to come.

Alex shifted his weapon in his arms and took a breath to fortify himself. The weight of leadership felt heavy beyond measure and he was uncertain he could really do this. As he scanned the crowd of hundreds – he knew many would die today – like his Claire, his unborn child; and it would be his fault. They all stood here – expectant; ready to follow – but what if…..?

A hand fell to his shoulder and he gazed into the calm face of Michael – whose love for him shown like a beacon. He nodded and breathed in a shuddered breath. This was it – the moment of truth – what he was born to do – what Michael had raised him up to become.

Beneath his coat, he could feel the markings shift against his skin, letting him know he was not alone in this. Alex bowed his head and thought – surely God was here somewhere. He just had to be.

Lifting his head, he peered over the expanse of bodies standing in the wake of the east gate. In the distance, he could swear he heard the eight balls advancing. When he began to speak, the air around them was still; hushed. He didn't need to raise his voice to be heard.

"The eight ball army will hit the east wall first. Michael has seen them on foot and they should be here within the hour."

He paused, looked into each face then continued. "We don't have a lot of time. I know that some of you are thinking – I am not a fighter; I've never fired a weapon but…." He lifted his weapon to demonstrate, and called out, "we point, aim and shoot."

Pete continued, lifting his tire iron over his head, "We strike for the head – and rain down blow after blow until they are dead!"

Noma stepped forward, "And we do not hesitate!"

Heads nodded in unison at their words, and the makeshift army shifted from foot to foot anxious but unwavering.

"Noma, Pete and I will cover the wall with you here near the gate, along with the Corp. Michael will take the army and some of you council members already handpicked to the War Room. The wall cannons must be on line. It's our only chance to hold them off."

Alex paused and studied their faces. "Remember, everyone here now is a soldier of Vega. We have survived the darkness. Now we fight for our lives."

Spontaneously the people of Vega bowed their heads. Only the remnants of crackling fires still burning; shifting feet and harsh breathing could be heard. After a moment, Alex raised his head; peered out onto his brave army and yelled out, "Let's do this!"

Michael nodded; clapped his back and led half of their fighting force toward the War Room. He turned to Noma who touched his cheek with the palm of her hand and in her gaze spoke of love, loyalty and behind the determination of a soldier's steel, saw sorrow.

He grasped her hand and kissed the inside of her palm. "I love you Noma", he whispered and tried to impart just how much with the deep pressure of his lips to her skin. A lone tear escaped to caress her cheek and he wonder how he would survive if he were to lose her too.

Pete reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "We've got your back Alex", he promised. And in that moment snarling, frenzied eight balls swarmed from the side streets – right for them -some with weapons; some with hands free - only their teeth bared for action.

Pete, Noma and Alex turned to face the onslaught – standing shoulder to shoulder – their army flanked at their backs or running to take cover and engage the enemy from behind cars; benches and abandoned kiosks. As if released from Pandora's Box – Alex could hear shouts; grunts; curses and howls filling the Blvd.

So he lifted his weapon, took aim and fired the shot that made the first kill.

They would make their stand and hope the wall cannon would come on line sooner than later. It had begun.

* * *

Morning Star listened with arrogant pleasure as his congregation of followers sang to his glory and prayed for his continued protection to envelop this community and keep the statue of flame burning. They thought it God they sang to; but it was he who received the praise in his stead.

In the recesses of his mind, he heard the first shot fired in the war beginning in Vega; felt Gabriel's anticipation of victory; and Michael's devotion to the chosen one and mankind. He could not sense Alex Lannon at all and briefly wondered as to why that could be.

His thoughts drifted, filtered out over the earth, into the hearts and minds of those humans huddled in small pockets of protective communities – praying and hoping for the chosen one to deliver them from their oppressive states. He reached out even further, and with a smirk felt no reciprocation from Father.

Yes – he chuckled inwardly – this was the beginning.

* * *

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter; and hope you leave a review to let me know what you think! As always – reviews are most welcome and help to keep me going!


	25. Chapter 25

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: Events come to a head in Vega – leading to the beginning of something new for mankind.

* * *

Chapter 25: The Beginning Part Two

Clutching the semi-automatic weapon close to his chest, Alex leaned tiredly against the nearby building and breathed in and out; fast and hard. The exertion of it made him feel lightheaded and a little unsteady. He shut his lids as stinging sweat seeped into his eyes; and blinked quickly to clear his vision. Wheezing in smoke and the stench of death he could feel Pete close at his back – his breathing a twin ragged, synchronization of his own.

His heart hammered in his chest and sent waves of vibrating rhythmic pounding crashing into his ribcage. Bile pricked at the back of his throat, but with extreme concentration and effort – he held back the persistent urge to vomit. Several sets of frantic eyes from his fighting force were looking to him for leadership; calm and purpose. They were frightened; anxious; brave and undeterred.

It wouldn't do to lose it now.

Scanning the street littered with the bodies of eight balls and humans alike, he found no hint of Noma – where she might have gotten to; or if she were even still alive. He had lost track of her some time ago. The winding twisting battle in the streets sending their ranks in divergent directions; and he feared for her. Not only that, he feared for himself and his sanity if he were to lose her. For at this very moment, he was holding on by a thread; a thread taunt with panic and dread.

This would all be for what if she was not by his side? He couldn't do this without her.

He flinched minutely as the angry war cannon blasts filled the night air; and instinctively pulled Pete back with him against the brick wall of Mason's Mercantile for what little cover it could offer. Flashes of billowy orange smoke lit up the sky. The deafening noise impaired his hearing to muffled chaos as the rumbling beneath his feet caused him to sway and stagger into Pete as they huddled side by side with their comrades for cover.

When he looked up, the image of Duma on the large jumbo screen atop Riesen Tower assailed him. His monotone message to "deliver the chosen one or die" sent a shiver of guilt and remorse down his spine. All those dead….it was his fault. They followed him blindly into this nightmare. How could he live with it; what was he to do if they did not succeed in wrestling the city from Duma's clutches.

When he looked up into those steely eyes he could practically feel General Riesen's torment – over taken by Duma, unable to assert his true self. He bowed his head in despair. Claire was dead, as was her father in a way….his child, never to meet and love - unborn; the citizens of Vega under threat of annihilation. This was all on him.

Silently he cursed the markings on his body; cursed his fate – his duty; then quickly asked God for forgiveness. He would do this thing; fight for mankind – it was what he was born for.

He felt himself spiraling down into inertia when Pete yelled frenetically in his ear, "We need to pull back! Get off these streets!"

Alex frowned, and stared bewildered in the face of his friend's frantic announcement. Pete stood before him – bloody; wearily swiping his hand through gritty hair; his tire iron held tight in his grip. He didn't understand. How could they retreat? To where? They had only one option – to stand their ground and fight to the end. Pete leaned in closer and yelled, "We need to regroup Alex!" – And watched as he pointed toward an underground parking garage area beneath the Luxor.

Alex looked down the line of Vega citizens and saw the exhaustion on the faces of what was left of their army. They had been fighting guerrilla style now for hours; but the eight balls were relentless and seemed to swarm upon them at every turn. A never ending body of them surged in ebbs and flows bearing down on them at a frenzied pace.

Mad they were – programmed to think as one; to killed them all; and unafraid to die. As one fell it seemed three took its place. His mind fell on the reality that deep under their hatred for humans – they were human as well. Their identities stolen – replaced with the consciousness of lower angels, hell bent on destruction.

They were killing their own.

Listening to the wall cannon barrage the edges of the city, he knew Michael had done his part. Gotten the cannon on line and for hours now could feel the tremors and explosions out on the perimeter. But still they came.

Every now and then when he searched the sky – he could see Michael; wings expanded gliding gracefully above the fray, scouting - indicating where to blast the enemy; which street to attack – which to avoid.

Taking stock of Pete's haggard, determined face and stance; he knew the man was right. They needed to rethink this. It was impossible to keep up the strike; run; duck and cover; attack style much longer here on the ground. They needed a new strategy.

Duma's voice droned over the cacophony, his repeated message of surrender or die weighing him down. So he nodded his assent and let Pete lead them to the underground.

* * *

Noma turned expertly in a tight circle, clearing the way ahead of her as she effortlessly wiped out a dozen or so eight balls in a single arc with her automatic weapon. War was nothing new to her; and she wore it like a second skin. No matter the era, it was all about purpose; and survival. Stepping back into the shadows to remain hidden, she wondered worriedly where Alex and Pete were; if they were okay; and above all alive.

Some time back she and handful of others had gotten separated from the main group and together they had fought valiantly, until now – she stood alone, bobbing and weaving through back streets and alleyways decimating as many eight balls as she could.

Bowing her head, she cursed her body and for the thousandth time wished she still retained her gift – her power; her wings – sacrificed it seemed an eon ago - sacrificed willingly for the chosen one.

Deep in the recess of memory, she could hear Michael's angry recrimination echo, "pay your debt and give your life." Frowning, she shook off the memory to concentrate on the here and now.

Over the course of battle, she had seen Michael take to the sky – flying above the clouds of destruction caused by the wall cannon, pointing out where to fire next – attempting to give them all some kind of advantage.

Banging the back of her head against the wall where she stood, waiting to attack again; she could feel her anger and resentment rise up from her belly erupting in a feral cry of frustration. If only she could take flight, spread her wings bear down on the enemy with all of her strength she knew the tide would turn in their favor.

She could do so much more give Alex so much more – be of better use….if only she still retained God's gift to her. Perhaps she could even atone for her terrible sins of the past – sins committed twenty-five years ago; sins she would never reveal to him…..the fear of his hatred more painful than the loss of her wings.

Instead, she was trapped in a body she did not understand; a body that was weak and lost.

Ahead more eight balls clumsily approached, pulling her from thoughts of inadequacy that had no place in war. Creeping stealth like from dark corners, circling to attack from the rear, she deftly dispatched the snarling band and retreated back into hidden places.

She needed to find her way back to the main group. Find Alex and stop fighting out here alone. As she stepped out to head back in the direction she last had contact with Alex and Pete – there in the middle of the street stood a single, lone man, still; quiet – his gallon hat tilted back on his head, away from his face. His smile wide, and eyes alight with a knowing secret.

Peering about, she wondered at the sight of him, and crept closer – her weapon targeted at his head in case he meant to harm her or rushed her. But she saw no weapons in the holster resting on his hips; and frowned curious as to what he wanted from her out here in the middle of this carnage.

Was he here to torment her, offer up her deepest desire – to be whole again?

As she moved toward the silent stranger, she also began to notice the eerie, calm silence of the street. Suddenly the slick purr of his voice reached out to her and held her hostage. Lowering her weapon, she felt defenseless; hopeless and forlorn. How could she fight this demon of betrayal that resided in her heart?

"Hello Noma. Fancy meeting you here", he laughed; and felt her resolve to withstand his persuasive powers weaken.

* * *

Thank you for reading. For those of you have read; and followed this story – I can only apologize for the long wait to update. I hope you enjoyed this chapter; and I hope to continue; and complete this. I hope you can stay with it and bear with me. Please leave a review to let me know what you think.


	26. Chapter 26

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: Events come to a head in Vega with Lyrae making his presence felt. Michael and Gabriel face off. All this and more; leading to the beginning of something new for mankind.

Chapter 26: The Beginning Part Three

* * *

Lyrae slipped unnoticed through the gates of Vega alongside the rushing, hordes of eight balls that were once his army to command. The heavy emperion steel sword rested in its scabbard at his side and bounced reassuringly on his hip. With perfect timing it swayed in sync with every step he took. The weight of the weapon slammed against his thigh as he maneuvered swiftly through the maze that was battle.

Blood, sweat, screaming horror surrounded him – but he forged on.

The weapon gave him some measure of comfort. To know it was there, ready to use; to strike down Gabriel; Michael and the Chosen One – provided him the courage to follow through with his objectives.

With bitter disappointment, he took in the chaotic battle scene around him, and simmered with unchecked hatred. This was to be his moment, he thought; his triumphant march into Vega – his revenge fulfilled. Instead Gabriel had stolen his thunder – cast him away…..again. Made him out to be the fool; the one in the wrong.

Well, he would see to it that Gabriel saw who got the last laugh.

His escape from New Delphi had been easier than expected. Darkness consuming him, Gabriel had thought him nothing, and spent no time or resources looking for him. Flicked aside like an insect, he had hunkered down within the bowls of the bunker; avoiding detection - waiting for his chance. And when his chance came, he was ready.

Under the cover and disguise of hood and cloak, it was surprising how little attention he received. One more body among thousands filing out from underground; then walking in unison through the desert toward Vega was all the stealth he needed. Keeping up the relentless pace on foot was difficult, but he was determined.

No one paid him any mind; acknowledged him in any way….he was invisible. An invisible force that would take back what was his, by any means necessary.

Gunfire erupted to his right and several eight balls fell to the ground screeching in agony. It was a near miss that sent him sidestepping fallen bodies and rushing to find refuge. Within an abandoned store front, he found just the place.

Pulling the door closed, he searched the empty establishment to be sure he was alone; then sank to the ground to catch his breath. His hands shook with adrenaline; so he clasped them together to keep them still. He needed to get himself together and find a way to turn things around in his favor.

It was all he had now – his revenge. His need to bring Gabriel low was an all-consuming furnace – a personal hell he had to see through. He would not let the archangel get away with this. A lifetime it seemed he had invested. Twenty-five years; he had spent building up New Delphi – creating a commercial and military stronghold.

Twenty-five years he had spent trapped in Julian's body; living underground – among the lowliest of angels and rabble of humanity. Twenty-five years of planning; strategizing; getting ready. It could not end this way. This was his army. This was his plan to humiliate and destroy Gabriel. He would not lose it all to that arrogant, self-righteous prick.

Outside the store front, he could hear screams; feet pounding on pavement; humans and eight balls alike howling in the throes of death.

Underneath, deep inside him, he could feel Julian pushing to assert himself – to come out – to talk him out of this maddened state he found himself in. Pulling at his hair, he pressed the essence of the man down; and shouted for him to, "Shut up! Be still and let me think!"

At one time, he would have let Julian be the voice of reason; given him free reign to make difficult decisions. His talent for survival; his natural skill for leadership; and gift for organization had served him well. The man had been good to him; agreed to share everything – in every way. To have found him; to have melded so seamlessly was a miracle unto itself.

Together they had built an empire.

But now that time was over. He needed to take back what was his – or die trying. "I don't need you now Julian", he whispered; stood to his feet, and then plunged back out into the fray where panicky citizens not caught up in the fighting scurried by those locked in battle, to find a safe haven.

Up on the jumbo screen, looming above the city streets – Duma's voice echoed out threats in a soothing, menacing cadence. Where there was Duma, Gabriel lurked –he reasoned, and took off toward the Riesen Tower – eager to implement his hastily put together plan in motion.

Kill Duma; and retain his army; kill Michael to grieve Gabriel; kill Gabriel to wipe that condescending smirk from his face; then destroy the Chosen One. Kill…kill….kill! Vega would be his.

As he ran full throttle through the mayhem, and toward the tower – the unexpected sight of the former angle known as Noma brought him to a skidding halt. There she stood – Michael's obedient soldier; and protector of the chosen one, in the middle of a side street; still as stone, staring into nothingness. Her eyes appeared devoid of any awareness. It was as if she were sleeping on her feet.

She did not see him taking notice of her and wondered at her state. Had she gone insane? Who was it that she spoke to in such hushed tones?

The last time he saw her, she had ripped the wings off her back to save Alex Lannon. It was an unselfish act of loyalty that had on one hand amused; and on the other hand impressed him.

Gripping his sword, he thought to charge now and run her through – but Duma loomed overhead – spouting that "his" army would rain terror if the chosen one was not delivered. Mind made up, he left Noma alone in the street assured that she must have lost her mind; and would prove to be no threat.

* * *

Michael swore inwardly as he watched from his vantage point high above, the war room being overtaken by eight balls. Council members and what was left of the Angel Corp scurried from the building like ants and raced out onto side streets attempting to find a safe place to hole up.

The skies went suddenly silent, and instead of the orange glow of explosions and bombastic outbursts of artillery detonations– he was met with an eerie, soundless, inky blackness. Below him - the maze of the city and her people was in pandemonium. Duma had succeeded in taking away their one advantage. Without the cannon – it was almost impossible to subdue the eight ball army and take the city.

Earlier, he had noticed Alex retreat into the underground parking garage beneath the Luxor and felt him to be safe for now. One thing he knew for sure – Peter would see to it that no harm came to the chosen one – for as long as he could.

The drone of Duma's voice penetrated the hushed quiet and bounced off building surfaces – giving their current situation a sense of doom.

In the past, he had been in this situation on many occasions –where all seemed lost. But in each instance Father had seen them through. Faith in Him and His love had been the deciding factor – and inevitably that faith led to triumph.

In his heart, he knew this was the case now. Alex was the chosen one; and through him worked his Father. He knew it; believed it and had faith that with Alex they would find a way. All the years of preparation was coming down to this – to today; perhaps even this hour. And he would do all he could to give Alex an advantage.

Slowly he turned in space to face the Riesen Tower and let the buoyant air hold him up. With Duma there, he knew - so would be his brother. So, he would make haste to the Tower; and face down Gabriel – be the distraction; the catalyst to set things in motion. With a heavy heart, he would do what needed to be done to give Alex the time he needed in order to save this city - these people; and then the world.

For this was the beginning; and if not today then another millennium would pass before the next chosen one appeared. By then, what would have become of mankind? No….the time was now.

Slicing his way swiftly through the waning night – he knew this was their only chance. Soon it would be morning – and he hoped a new day for man and angel alike.

* * *

Gabriel leaned over the balcony and laughed aloud. Duma had come through. The war cannon no longer cut a swath through his forces and soon Vega would fall and be under his control.

Peering down on the frenzy below, he let out a conquering whoop of victory and breathed in his success. These puny humans didn't stand a chance against his might. Finally, after twenty-five years- the completion of his mission was at hand.

From here, he would destroy humanity; annihilate his brother – rule this world. Father would be pleased – send for him; forgive him; love him again.

Black eyes shining, he could feel the darkness engulfing his soul – crowding out the uncertainty at the back of his mind that perhaps this was not what Father wanted. But he stamped out that small flame along with his lingering love for his brother and hardened his heart.

This darkness…..this is what true power felt like. With it, he was now invincible; and he relished in it.

Next order of business was to find the chosen one. This time there would be no escaping him; no soft heart; no pleading Michael to give into – he didn't need a living Alex Lannon to decipher the markings; just his tanned hide.

There was nothing – no one who could or would stand in his way.

Startled from his musings, coming straight at him from the midnight sky, was Michael. Headed for him like a heat seeking missile – wings folded back; face hard; lips pressed tight against the wind. His dark eyes were cold like granite and took him aback – so unlike his bleeding heart brother.

Well….this is it – he thought to himself; and howled in the face of Michael's audacity.

"So brother, you have come to confront me!" he called out with unsuppressed glee; unfurled his glory then left his feet with ease. "Come, I am ready."

* * *

Thank you very much for reading; and for sticking with this story. Please leave a review to let me know what you think! And Happy New Year!


	27. Chapter 27

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: Events come to a head in Vega. Michael and Gabriel clash as Noma, Pete and the citizens of Vega show unwavering faith in the chosen one.

* * *

Chapter 27: The Beginning Part Four

Noma startled to awareness – dazed and confused; as if awakening from a distant mystifying dream, and found she stood precariously alone in the street. With no clear memory of why she stood here, tendrils of unease filled her gut. A sense of gentle fluttering, and shifting air at her back had her gasping in anticipation.

When she turned to see; to reach for the wave of feathery down – nothing was there. Staring down at her empty hands she swallowed hard, and felt her heart break just a little. The disappointment; the void was great….but she knew deep down that she could live with it; that she must live with it.

Spinning around to take in her surroundings, she immediately noticed the silence; the black sky void of billowing flames and worried that while she stood here in a stupor, wishing for the unattainable, the war had been lost.

Her mind fell on Alex. Where was he? Was he okay?

Shaking free from her inertia, and sense of foreboding, Noma gathered her wits and took off running. The urgency to find Alex, to protect him pushed past the remnants of a dream which whispered to her of betrayal. That sung to her – the promise of flight; and cooed with menace to make her way east with the chosen one.

Once again she had been set upon by the messenger of evil – who deftly played on her weaknesses and vulnerabilities. "Not this time!" she sobbed into the stillness, swiping tears from her face as she raced from street to street. She remembered her recent, near fatal encounter with the darkness. How she would have died happily; killed without malice if it meant she could fly again.

Alex had saved her then; brought her back from the edge of despair, and he would save her now.

Noma set a quick pace, and murmured to herself in time with her pounding feet, "I will not betray him. I will not betray him. Not again. Not again." Terrible memories washed over her; drowning; suffocating her beneath unforgivable things she had done over two decades ago – unforgivable things she would never speak of aloud.

Rounding a corner, she found herself merging with other stray citizens from the fighting, streaming their way from the nooks and crannies of Vega – moving toward the Luxor. Following suit she blended in and let herself be pulled along with the crowd.

Some acknowledged her with a nod, and shrugged at her silent question of "What is going on?"

In the night sky – a sonic boom of displaced air rocked the earth and tilted everyone sideways; people bumping against shoulders; careening into walls; some stumbling to the ground. Every eye searched the heavens to see the Archangels, Michael and Gabriel meet in midair; swords drawn – engaging in a solitary battle with no heed to those below.

As steel met steel - lightening emanated then streaked, crackled and sizzled between them. Their swords generated such energy, that it lit the sky; blew up wind; dust and debris; causing those watching from the ground to cover their eyes or turn away. Such a display had Noma shivering – frightened for all here if Michael were to fall by Gabriel's hand.

And then, there ahead, waving people below into the underground parking garage was Pete.

Noma sighed with relief; the battle above all but forgotten. Here was Pete – a beacon of light, waving everyone forward, down into safety. Apologizing, pushing people aside, she rushed to face him, and for the first time in hours felt a flame of hope erupt in her chest.

Michael above – Alex nearby; it would all work out – it just had to.

"Pete", she yelled; grabbed his shoulders and gave a quick embrace. Pulling back, she looked into those eyes and for the briefest of moments saw her dorky; innocent; brave Pete staring back at her. But then she looked him over and he morphed into a tired, weary soldier – covered in blood; his weapon of choice hanging loosely from his belt loop.

"Noma" he answered, "Am I glad to see you!" and hugged her back; his body sagging minutely into hers. She sensed a weight lift from his shoulders and asked anxiously, "Alex?"

"He's okay; waiting for us below. Go to him Noma. He has a plan."

Frowning, she sought to determine details from his cryptic choice of words and his demeanor.

"No", he shook his head. "You have to hear it from him", and pushed her away to follow the growing throng of people filing into the underground garage.

* * *

Alex gazed out over the now hundreds, if not at least a thousand Vega citizens kneeling and standing about on the cold concrete of the garage floor – warily waiting for him to speak. He could feel the markings shift on his skin, beneath his jacket – so removed it for all to see.

An echoing murmur of incredulity filled the darkened space, and those who stood; took a knee – reverently witnessing the markings of God move as if by magic across Alex's body. Here before them stood the chosen one – the miracle of God's gift they all prayed to since the beginning of the extermination wars; the one who would deliver them from the Archangels; and the scourge of the eight balls. Here was the child born, to save them all.

Noma appeared to his left; her eyes shining with love and awe. Reaching out to hold her hand, he kissed it and squeezed tight. "I was worried", he sighed; then brushed his lips gently with hers. For a moment, it was as if they were alone; and so placed his head in the crook of her neck – and felt the pulse of life. She held him close, and he could feel her fingers card lightly through his hair; soft, hushed words warm in his ear; and breathed in her essence imparting to her his plan; praying that she would understand – not try and talk him out of it…then the moment was gone.

Pete appeared to his right. "I've left someone at the entrance to lead more people down", and nodded succinctly; ready to receive instructions. Alexis' plan a weight between them, hurriedly explained to him earlier. A plan he had attempted to counter with no success. So he had let it go; knew from experience - there was no talking Alex out of something his mind was set on.

The mighty clanging of steel – felt as thunder – boomed out above them in the open street. "Michael and Gabriel engage each other as we speak." Noma shared; and the crowd looked up as if they could see through the concrete.

Over the thunderous noise and crackle of energy, Alex raised his voice to address the citizens. "Please everyone...listen!" And he searched their faces until every eye was upon him; and all that could be heard were harsh breathing; stray coughs and soft moans of pain.

Now that he had everyone's attention; he stood at his full height and pointed forcibly at his chest. "I'm nothing special", he began quietly. "Just an ordinary man"; and paused to think on how he was raised – how Michael saw to him; made sure he ate, was clothed and when of age trained him up so that he could join the Angel Corp – taught him about life; how to be good person.

Studying his arms carefully, he cleared his throat and continued. "These markings were a gift to me; passed on from my father; who received them from Michael who retained them from God. These markings were given as a road-map to help lead the way; to bring about peace on this earth."

"But I need your help." he pleaded. "I believe that this is the hour."

Gesturing above and then out toward the garage opening which led to the street, he forged ahead, "Michael has given us an opening. He distracts Gabriel at risk to his own life; a life that has always been dedicated to Vega and her people."

"If you can trust me, follow me out of there; then I know we will take back our homes; our way of life. If not – if it's not to be, then we will burn this city to the ground and leave nothing for Gabriel to lord over."

Above ground the volatile storm of thunder and lightning created by Michael and Gabriel's continuous battle raged on with such force the ground shook; causing dust and bits of concrete to fall like white powder.

"We have all sacrificed much. Will you do this?" he beseeched. "Will you stand with me?"

Searching each face, he hoped against hope that his plan would work. Hoped that no more life would be loss – that he understood what the winding twisting markings meant. As they shifted; moved; and swirled about his torso; arms and hands – he knew this was the only way to save them all – man; eight ball and angel alike.

Surely this is what God was trying to tell him; what Michael had tried to impart all these years. This was the moment. But if this didn't work – if it wasn't what he thought…. what then?

Noma left her feet, knelt on bended knee by his side and answered his summons, "yes", and bowed her head praying that this was the answer. Pete did the same and with the hundreds of Vega citizens in unison answered, "yes".

With gratitude, Alex paused…moved forward and called out to each and every one, "Then follow me!"

* * *

Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think by leaving a review! I am determined to complete this piece! So thank you to all of you who have decided to read and stick with it! And as I write this; I'm realizing, just how much I miss this show!


	28. Chapter 28

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: Events come to a head in Vega as Alex exerts his strength and Morning Star bides his time in Mallory.

* * *

Chapter 28: The Beginning Part Five

The walk through town was lovely in this brisk weather and gave him some time to reflect on the small simple beauties of life. To breathe in the fresh air; to smell bread baking from the Henderson's kitchen window; to feel the earth under his feet – solid; hard, comforting.

This was why he was meant to be here. Why he had survived the burial at sea; to be here and smell the roses. He was here to live out his existence with no worries, in his own paradise; a garden of his own making…and Eden of his own choosing.

And here it was – his beginning…Mallory.

The sacrificing; pure of heart natives of Mallory were what kept him going. Their songs of praise were nice; the worship….all well and good. But it was the sacrificing that he cherished, fed from – lapped up and stored in order to heal and become whole again. After centuries of limbo and twenty-five years here among these people, he was still nowhere near healed; and feared it would take a millennium to be his true self again.

And he could not wait much longer – his patience wearing thin as each day went by; no each second.

Neighbors strode by, smiled and issued a hardy "good morning" as they made way to Sunday services. Nodding in return, he waved a greeting of hello; asked about their children, if they were headed to church – and what special pie had Mrs. Conner made to counter the fresh bread made by Mrs. Henderson today?

It did good to fit in – be one of the sheep.

Blowing warmth into chilled fingers, he stopped to look up and take in the magnificent beauty of God's work. The sunrise was a beautiful sight to behold. Closing his eyes to relish the feel of the sun's warmth on his face; he smiled. He had to give Father his props – a gifted creator he definitely was; and besides he always enjoyed a good sunrise.

As a child, he and his siblings would bask in the glory of early mornings; the array of colors – the smell of dew; and frolic innocently among the clouds as Father watched and showered his devotions of love on them. Sighing, he opened his eyes to take it all in. Those were indeed joyous times.

Resuming his path to church, he dismissed such sentimental musings and wondered on the messenger, and where he could be. How things went in Vega with Noma? Would she be a team player and deliver him the chosen one?

For he was the key – that boy. His aura – essence; pure heart was what he needed. No longer would he have to wait every five years to devour, feed off the goodness of Mallory – all confessed sin buried beneath the earth with their leaders.

The chosen one would provide an eternity of fuel to keep him going.

Frowning, he blamed his recent weakness on Michael – his do good brother who had found his way here and tricked him into handing over those sins to him. Laurel was still here and she shouldn't be. He could have benefited for years off of her ultimate sacrifice. Instead – Michael's interference had left him vulnerable as he had done so many lifetimes ago.

There were rules to follow after all and now he had to wait another five years. Just as Laurel volunteered to carry the sins of this community, he needed Alex Lannon to come of his own accord. And Noma was the bait. He doubted the boy would come without her.

Suddenly the air displaced around him, and pain ratcheted in his skull – blinding and steeling him of his breath. Gasping, he clutched at his head, and felt his legs turn to rubber. He knew right away what this was. Michael and Gabriel were tearing each other a new one – no doubt battling it out in Vega over the future of humanity and the chosen one.

Father's markings being such a hot commodity – as it were.

Wincing, he rubbed his temples to ease the pain. He could always sense them, and it was no different now. Their pains were his pains – their sorrows; joys and triumphs ….his as well. A curse he wished he could separate from.

Always they would be his brothers; but now more so his enemies. They had tried to destroy him; succeeded in diminishing him and keeping him out of the loop; had imprisoned him in a watery grave and left him to rot.

He only hoped they would destroy each other – cancel each other out; so he wouldn't have to do it.

He swayed a bit; and a firm hand gripped his arm. Through the haze of such a blinding headache he could hear Laurel ask, "Are you alright Wes? Do you need any help?"

Leaning into her hold, he accepted the assistance gladly. "Yes, Laurel – thank you."

"Here", she prompted and placed her shoulder beneath his arm and grabbed hold his waist. "Let me get you home."

"No….no" he insisted. "I was on my way to church. Please, let's head there. I'll be alright once we get inside."

Lifting an eyebrow she smiled slightly at his stubbornness. "Alright", she acquiesced, "Church it is."

And together, as the bells rang out, they shuffled slowly – side by side to hear the Word and sing praises.

* * *

The power of eviction came over him swiftly without any real warning. One moment he was leading the citizens of Vega from beneath the Luxor – Noma and Pete at his side; Michael clashing swords with Gabriel above him – the wind howling; electricity charging the air; and then it happened.

Warmth surged up from his belly – the markings danced about his skin and then the words came forth – loud, with no hesitation, "Sanctify this vessel. Come into the light. Protect us body and soul."

Holding out his arms – raised to reach for the approaching eight balls – as if to welcome them into his embrace he could sense the fear of those witnessing this behind him. Eight balls descended on them fast as they moved out from the protection of the parking garage.

But he wasn't deterred…..knew his plan would work and yelled out the eviction incantation once more; twice and then a final time.

Behind him, he could feel everyone go still; incredulous, as a wave of blue light flowed from him like lava - crashed into the unsuspecting enemy, then out over the city – block by block. The force of the wave so strong – it broke windows; blew in doors; lifted from the ground anything and everything that was not bolted down.

Above them, the storm of the archangel battle waned; as the tidal wave here below at his fingertips grew stronger. The eight balls fell as one where they stood beneath the current of eviction – those before him in the street; those in the bowels of the city or on the outskirts. They could not escape its power.

After what seemed but an instant, his strength fading from the exertion; Alex felt the tide flow back toward him. Up above the lightening had ceased; the wind dissipated and there falling from the sky – a meteor on fire…..Gabriel, descending fast to the earth.

An explosion rocked the ground as newly reborn humans stood slowly to their feet – examining their hands; touching their faces; clutching their hearts looking inwards, into their bodies, souls and minds. Turning in confused circles they took in their surrounds, unclear of where they were and what they were doing.

"They are reborn, and don't know what's happened!" Pete announced, standing at his side; staring out at the multitude of people who were afraid – waiting for what next.

"You have performed a miracle!" he shouted and squeezed his shoulder; amazed at what he just witnessed.

Alex swayed and would have fallen – exhaustion weighing him down, if not for Noma who slid close and held him up around the waist. "Are you alright?" she asked her voice odd; tinged with love and fear –the power displayed by the chosen one warring with her love for him as a man.

Alex nodded; leaned into her the more and began giving orders, "Pete…..pull some people together to help you and reassure these people that everything is okay. They're safe now. Then start moving everyone toward the armory."

Pete nodded – turned away to follow orders, and suddenly Alex fond that he could not move. That he had done this thing – worked this miracle, frightened him. The markings had ceased communicating and left his skin feeling raw and painful. But if he stopped to examine the moment; what he had done – he knew he would go mad. Looking to the heavens he whispered, "Thank you." But it didn't seem enough.

As if from a distance, he could hear Pete's voice calling out instructions; soothing the reborn and herding everyone away toward the armory. Noma peered up at him….expectant – her gaze alight with pride.

There was so much to think about. Had they truly withstood this threat to Vega or did some danger still lurk? They must make haste to the children, be sure the eight balls were all expelled. What of Michael? What of the meteor that fell to earth? Should they all stay here in Vega – rebuild or strike out to find a new, better home?

Noma squeezed his waist and brought him back from such daunting thoughts. "One thing at a time", she whispered.

As he swept her up into a hard, unyielding embrace, out on the horizon an orange tinge of sunlight began its rise in the east….and he, overcome with emotion… hid his face in her hair and wept tears of gladness.

* * *

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review and let me know what you think. And thank you to those who continue to read this story.


	29. Chapter 29

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: Events come to a head in Vega as the epic battle between Michael and Gabriel concludes. Julian takes over where Lyrae leaves off; and Noma makes a choice that leaves Alex shattered.

* * *

Chapter 29: The Beginning Part Six

Michael watched in abject horror as his brother – ferocious in battle; eyes black with absolute hatred, drew back his sword for the kill…. then fell rapidly from his sight.

It all happened so suddenly – giving him little time to process events as they swiftly unfolded.

In that moment, he had let go, dropped his arms to his sides in defeat; was prepared, almost resigned for his own life to end – and hoped his sacrifice in some way would save Alex and in turn humanity. He was ready; and knowing he could not find it within himself to kill his brother – his beloved twin, he had waited for the blow. But instead of the expected pain and then void of death; he was stunned to see Gabriel plunge from view.

As he fell away, descending and picking up speed through the atmosphere – a ball of flame seemed to encase him and he hurtled at mock speed toward the earth. The night sky lit up as if day, so he reeled back and covered his eyes.

When the flaming ball of light hit solid ground– the explosion mushroomed up toward the starless expanse and resounded like an atomic bomb; vibrating the air around him, and pushed him back with force. Folding his wings to embrace himself, he attempted to ride out the blast – but found the release of energy overwhelming.

The potent shockwave of power had him losing control of his body in space, and he spun, twirled; tumbled about, his limbs and mind uncoordinated….disbelieving.

"No…." he gasped; and when he finally gained some command of his faculties; pinned back his wings and followed the meteor down in haste. The trail of fiery ash leading him away from Vega's borders and out toward the desert toward the blast zone had him coughing and tearing up in its wake.

When he reached the ground, the crater he encountered had gouged the earth – pulling up trees; highway pavement and thin desert dirt. The fire descending from the heavens trailed for miles; the hole created by the impact; at least as wide and as long as two football fields; and as bottomless as The Challenger Deep.

Picking his way over molten rock – the heat; an unbearable furnace – he wondered if his brother could have even survived such a fall. A fall caused by what? He had only witnessed one other such descent centuries ago – when Father, in his outrage - cast Morning Star from the heavens. Was this the same? Had somehow Father intervened? Or was this Alex's doing….the blue tidal wave of eviction still glowing strong in Vega.

Whispering a solemn prayer – he hoped that perhaps Gabriel survived.

Reaching the lip of the cavernous hole he dropped to his knees and peered over the edge. Looking down into the fiery depths he called out tremulously "Gabriel?" – but was met with an ominous silence with only the popping, crackling sound of flames and molten heat as an answer.

His heart skipped a beat. Surely, Gabriel must live. Wouldn't he know if his brother perished? Wouldn't he feel it in his heart? His twin would not die, and he not sense it. No – Gabriel was not dead he thought and called out again, this time louder, "Gabriel!"

The echo of his anguish bounced back and drifted up toward him.

Then, miraculously, out of the pit; ascending from the heat and flame was his brother – rising up with mighty wings fully expanded; floating there to face him. Serene, unhurried – a phoenix rising, Michael swallowed down dread; along with his relief at seeing Gabriel alive.

Always this love and hate he felt for his brother; but cherished him just the same.

Forcing himself to meet his gaze, he could see that Gabriel's eyes were clear; focused and devoid of the black hue that indicated the darkness still resided within him. Replaced within those depths was indeed his brother. But how could this be? Was it even so?

"Here I am brother." Gabriel answered; then landed gracefully atop the mouth of the pit; the backdrop of smoke, ash and orange fire surrounding him. Michael gasped in awe. Was this truly a miracle?

Sensing his brother's uncertainty, Gabriel grabbed him about the shoulders and then pulled him effortlessly to his feet; now standing before him – whole….his Gabriel. Wary, Michael reached for his swords hanging about his hips. Was this some trick? Would Gabriel now strike him down?

And as he touched the hilt of his swords; he found his action interrupted with a firm grip of his brother's hand. "It is me Michael. Me."

Pointing with emphasis at his own eyes, he reiterated with purpose, "See here"; and stared deep into those of Michael's to convince him.

"Look here and see the truth."

"Your chosen one has banished from me the darkness; a most miraculous feat." As his true darkness had begun long before Lyrae's vengeful assault….its beginnings rooted in the loss of his most treasured son – his beautiful David; adored poppet.

Sagging with relief, Michael grabbed Gabriel about the face – brought him so close that their breath intermingled; and peered deep into the depths of his being; down into his soul. And there, into the core of his heart saw the truth of it.

His brother did live; was himself again and gladly kissed his cheek.

* * *

Lyrae removed his blade from Duma's back and would have crooned out in victory if not for the blue wave that hit him full force.

A terrible pain ripped through this body and knocked him off his feet. In the recesses of his mind, he could hear Julian screaming – begging him not to go; to stay with him – fight to live. But he didn't understand. Go where?

He had just executed the first part of his plan – and it had been so very straightforward – easy really. There had been nothing too difficult about penetrating Riesen Tower. "I'm not going anywhere", he soothed to placate his other half and then abruptly knew no more…

…..Julian awoke from unconsciousness on the floor of the communications room in Riesen Tower. Pain lanced through his skull; his mouth was dry and his heart felt inexplicably broken. Beside him lay Duma in a pool of blood; the clear, dead eyes of General Riesen staring out into nothing; with Lyrae's blade next to him. Frowning in confusion, not understanding the scene unfolding around him, he immediately felt empty inside – hollow…..lost.

Bereft and in grief, he moaned with the pain of loss, and then sat up to weep without fruition. The cornerstone of his life for the past twenty-five years was gone. The abyss of it was deep and incredibly wide. Something he had thought impossible had taken place; he was ….alone. The only explanation was that somehow the chosen one had perfected his ability to evict – even a dyad.

Screaming with rage and sorrow, he got to his feet; stumbled his way past bewildered reborn humans and made his way to the balcony. Down on the street, just below him, stood Alex Lannon in the arms of his protector – amidst hundreds of milling, bewildered people.

In the distance, fire burned out beyond Vega's borders, as the sun began to rise; with hues of gold, purple and pink making an appearance.

Clutching at his heart he searched within – hoping to feel; sense his other half. He waited, but there was nothing. Where was his brother, the other half of him who made life worth living, who had saved his life from starvation; abuse and loneliness? What was he to do? Where was he to go?

"Come back", he whispered. But Lyrae did not answer his summons. Only silence met his pleas and the voiceless cavern within was deafening.

Drawing himself up to his full height, he recalled Lyrae's wish for revenge. Michael and Gabriel had tormented him, dismissed him from their ranks and humiliated him. They had driven him mad.

Making his way back into the communications room, Julian lifted Lyrae's blade and studied it closely. He would take up arms for Lyrae, as he always did and with a determined stride, made way to exact his own form of revenge.

* * *

Alex untangled himself from Noma's hold, smiled down at her; and then kissed her firmly on the lips. Beaming, she kissed him back and held tight to his shoulders. As she leaned in close; Alex could feel slight tremors rack her slight frame – and so held her closer still.

They had done it – taken back Vega. And he wished only to stand here and share this joy with her; profess his love for all to hear.

Out of the corner of his eye – moving swiftly on foot toward them, Alex could see Michael and close behind Gabriel at his back. In unison, he and Noma reached for and raised their weapons aiming for Gabriel's heart. But Michael spread his wings to protect him, and with hands held out in supplication, yelled out in deference to his brother, "The darkness no longer possesses him Alex; there is nothing to fear from him – you have seen to that."

And with amazement, Alex watched as the archangel….his protector; fall to one knee before him – head bowed, back straight – his meaning clear; that he would no longer lead, but would now follow.

Stunned for the briefest of moments – Alex lowered his weapon, and raced to kneel in front of his friend; his mentor – his father. "Do not kneel before me Michael", he implored; and reached out to embrace him – to hold him close; for they had all survived.

Left behind were the horrors and torture in New Delphi; the fight for their lives to make it back to Vega; the heartbreak of losing Claire and the baby. Instead, now they could look to the future; he, Michael, Noma – Pete; all here together – his family.

Michael embraced him back; and together they stood – Alex unable to help the grin spreading across his face; or the pride swelling in his chest. Around them people pointed; laughed; praised God for their victory; and wondered aloud what was to be done with Gabriel; why the enemy of Vega stood in their midst?

Sensing that he was neither wanted nor needed – Gabriel squeezed his brother's shoulder with care and took flight – hovering above them; to go where, Alex neither knew nor cared. All that mattered was that they had won this battle; and the start of something new for mankind began today at this hour.

In that instant, a shrieking mad man parted the crowed, his bloodied blade raised above his head, moving with strength and purpose toward Alex – his eyes empty of life; on his lips the mantra of "kill the chosen one."

On the edges of the crowd, Pete cried out in warning, "Alex!" having seen Julian approach with speed; unable to move fast enough to intercept.

Alex turned; Michael unsheathed his sword ready to protect; Noma pulled Alex into her arms and closed her eyes in resignation to wait for the killing blow; her ear planted firmly against his chest to hear the beat of his heart.

Time stood agonizingly still as Noma's weight pulled him roughly to the ground. When they hit the pavement; arms, legs entangled with one another, Alex gazed perplexed down into her face. Strangely, as if she knew some secret, Noma smiled around the blood bubbling up from her throat. Alex watched mesmerized as it spilled down the side of her mouth – a red river pooling into the hollow of her neck. He felt warmth at her back and stared uncomprehending as a sword protruded, waving and whining a death song in the wind.

With his hands covered in her blood, his mind screamed with denial. He wondered what was happening; why was it that Noma choked on her own blood in his arms….leaving him bit by bit – the light in her eyes; her love for him fading moment by moment.

How was this so? Just seconds ago, they had kissed; celebrated joy – victory in each other's arms. Now she was…..?

Turning to Michael, to Pete, to the heavens he hoped to find an answer but what he saw instead was Gabriel, in midair – hovering above him throwing down his sword – impaling Julian to the earth; who in his last breath murmured, "Lyrae."

* * *

Noma lay still in the arms of her love, her life… her penance. She could feel the last of her breath leaving her, and hoped Alex knew how much she loved him, as words would not come to her lips. She could feel Alex rocking her; Pete holding her hand and was thankful they were with her here in the end.

As she relaxed into the soothing strength of his embrace, when there was nothing else to fear; knowing that Alex was safe and unharmed – all that was left to her was the beating of his heart; lulling her to be at peace. That he lived was all that truly mattered.

And as she let herself go to fall contentedly down into death, she heard Alex beg her to "stay"; and then her Father softly whisper "come home".

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Thank you so much for reading. One more chapter and this tale will conclude. Thanks again for taking time to read; and I hope you take a moment to leave a review and let me know what you think.


	30. Chapter 30

Protect and Follow

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: The Final Chapter. As Morning Star grudgingly admits failure, his brothers make their way to Mallory. Alex contemplates the future without Noma; while Pete is eager to follow Alex out into the world on a new mission for mankind.

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Chapter 30: Tomorrow

Morning Star sensed it right away. A churning in the pit of his stomach that signaled something was terribly wrong.

Taking a deep breath to stave off a wave of dizzying panic, he watched as the choir swayed side to side in rhythmic sync to the jubilantly boisterous gospel hymn. Hands clapping; feet tapping, and with tears of joy streaming down their obedient upturned faces – he felt the sting of defeat stab him right in the heart.

The pain of it was piercing; permeated through his very being, then formed in his mouth as oleander – so bitter was the taste, he found it hard to swallow.

Legs gone wobbly, he sat with a stunned thud in his pew and smiled cynically up at the altar; the symbol of the chosen one – hands lovingly embracing the earth – taunting him from its perch of prominence.

Laurel touched his shoulder gently and frowned down at him, her silent question of concern grating on his nerves. The urge to forcibly remove her hand and go screaming out into the street; to rage and stomp his feet like an irate child was strong; but he took a shuddered breath and squeezed her hand to show her he was okay.

"I'm alright", he choked out as the poisonous toxins of defeat caught in his throat.

The doors of the church opened at the back of the building, and then his messenger appeared, with gallon hat in hand; shoulders slumped – shaking his head back and forth – his countenance solemn and grim. His dejected demeanor was in complete contrast to the outpouring of love and joy displayed in the sanctuary.

Turning away from the man's silent, desolate state – he didn't need to be told that somehow Michael and Gabriel were reunited. That their tenuous bond – a never ending battle between love and hate; that their precarious balance had tipped back the scales toward brotherhood.

Swearing under his breath, he also knew that his ace in the hole – Noma, was lost. His bargaining chip to hold over the chosen one; now a mute hand he had to fold.

Looking within; down into his soul, he grasped without a shadow of doubt – that the chosen one had managed to secure the city of Vega; evict the lower angels back into the ether; and had begun a path to fulfill his destiny and the prophesy.

Father was probably laughing at him in this very moment; for he had lost this hand it seemed.

Squeezing his hands into tight fists, he knew what was to come next. Life as he knew it now would soon come to a crashing halt. This brief respite of peace and solitude would be a distant wistful memory.

No more apple pie; Sunday picnics; unconditional love from the citizens of Mallory. His Eden would be invaded, the flame no longer needed – his time here borrowed.

Rubbing his eyes, he sighed with resignation and let the hymn of praise wash over him.

Soon his brothers would be coming for him to complete the job they so spectacularly botched centuries ago. Michael with his soft heart; and Gabriel with his arrogant inherent sense of justice; and Father hero worship – would be on the war path ready to right their wrong.

Well – he sighed, the world as he knew it was changing once again; and he wouldn't run away from it. No more hiding for him. He would wait right here in this sanctuary; his personal Garden of Eden and see if his little brothers could wrest him away.

Maybe he still had a few tricks up his sleeve; maybe they would show him some mercy….. or maybe not.

But one thing was for sure, he hadn't endured eons in a watery grave only to be released unexpectedly at the beginning hours of the extermination wars – then to live among these humans for the past twenty-five years for it to end this way.

This certainly was not how he envisioned things going; how he wanted his legacy to be remembered. It was he who was the chosen one. Not Adam, Noah, David….not the Lamb, not any of the others so anointed; and certainly not Alex Lannon.

It was he – Morning Star; Lucifer….Father's first. This world, her creatures – all of it was meant for him.

After some moments, he let the reality of the situation settle in, massaged his aching shoulders and allowed the music to flow through his body and let him relax. Laurel smiled down at him sweetly without a clue, and he smiled back, then stood to hear the Pastor give his benediction, sending the congregation back to their homes to live a life of sin free integrity; so that they could continue in the blessings of the Lord.

So they believed.

Looking up to the ceiling – then beyond to the heavens, he repeated, "Amen" along with the rest and sent his own message to Father; that he wasn't going to give up so easily. If nothing else he was the tenacious one in his family.

After all, he chuckled inwardly – it would be good to see his brothers again; and laughed aloud at his own bravado.

* * *

When Alex was himself again; back on his feet and aware of his surroundings – he had no conscious memory of what had taken place in that devastatingly pivotal hour; the hour he lost the other half of himself. He only knew what he was told.

Noma – his beautiful; strong courageous Noma was gone. According to Michael she had died in his arms; that it was quick; and she hadn't suffered. He struggled with the images of Michael's retelling for he could recollect nothing…..bring to mind - nothing.

All of it – her blood on his hands; Lyrae's attempt to kill him; that she had saved his life – how he had screamed; wept and refused to let her go, was buried deep somewhere and lost to him. He only knew that his heart was broken; and he would never be the same.

When he was reasonable and able to speak, he asked about the details. Michael explained that Lyrae was dead; killed swiftly by Gabriel's hand. This revelation surprised him, and seemed unbelievable given their history. But try as he might he could not see it, feel it – remember any part of Lyrae impaled to the earth with Gabriel's sword.

He did not remember Noma relaxing in his grasp as the light of her spirit left her body and ascended to heaven with languid beauty – as he reached to contain it; her essence slipping through his fingers. "Father brought her home." Michael stated in a matter of fact way that belied his wondrous belief that his Father had in some way returned; returned to grant Noma her most fervent wish – to be whole again, and return to heaven.

When he could not take hold of her light, he did not recall how he wailed – soaked in her blood – or how his very being shut down with grief; unable to hear, see or feel. From that moment until weeks later – he lived in a void of darkness; sensing nothing of the world around him.

Now that he was on the mend – when memories tried to resurface, they would only come to him in his dreams – a piecemeal of events that never made it to the end of the story. He would awaken in a cold sweat; just at the moment she moved to embrace him; her eyes warm with love, her heart beating fast against his chest. He would reach to touch her hair, and then there was….nothing.

All the time he sat steeped in his silent void of unimaginable grief; unable to move or breathe without immense pain in his heart; Michael and Pete took care of his every need. They fed him; bathed him; soothed him and nursed him back to the land of the living.

When it was time to gather the reborn, the survivors of Vega; it was they who regrouped the masses, organized and got Vega back on her feet. And slowly over time awoke him from his self-induced stupor back to life.

He had wanted to remain there in his void, where she sat by his side; held his hand and whispered her love. There he was safe with her – but Michael and Pete would have nothing of it and dragged him with force back into the world with them.

And now that his eyes and ears were open again, he saw that he was different. No longer the same person he was before she…..

Joy no longer fluttered in his heart; or reached his eyes – for that part of him was gone now with her…..forever.

At night, when he could find time to be alone; away from the praises; and awe he did not deserve – he would walk the Vega streets. Remember what it was like to grow up here; to fight for every morsel of food; a place to lay his head.

He would roam every alleyway and think on how Michael saved his life; how he had loved Claire and wanted nothing more than to leave here and be only with her. The idea of fatherhood – something he had cherished. And then finally meeting Noma, who had become his better half.

Inevitably he would end up, as he was now, atop the Stratosphere. He would look out and regard Vega in all her glory as she was then, and who she was now - a beacon of hope for the reborn, for displaced humans to come and find a home.

Looking down at the markings on his arms, as they moved, swirled and shifted beneath his jacket – he knew he could not stay here. God was trying to tell him something and he would listen. He would go out into the world, and leave this city to those who could take care of her. Vega was in solid hands.

Good people had stepped forward to form a new council; and could run this city better then he could ever attempt. Governing Vega was not for him. Besides, without Noma here, there was nothing to really stay for.

Just a few days ago, Michael and Gabriel had took flight and left Vega. Together they traveled to Mallory to bring some resolution to the problem of Lucifer. Even though he had killed the assassin Lyrae – the citizens of Vega hadn't wanted Gabriel here, had asked that he not stay.

Painful memories of his torment; abuses and relentless persecution of the human race could not be so easily dismissed; so without argument he had left; exclaiming to Alex that he would forever "try and atone for my many sins. I give my word." And he believed him, for if nothing else, Gabriel was not a man to give his word lightly.

And though it was painful to see Michael go – he understood the need for him to help his brother. Like himself, Gabriel had morphed into someone else. The eviction somehow altering his personae – for he was who he used to be before the darkness, but then again all together someone new. A blank slate – eagerly awaiting a new set of instructions.

So Michael, who loved Gabriel no matter what – left with him to seek out Lucifer in Mallory.

Holding tight the switchblade Michael had re-gifted him; he wondered about the two of them now and ghosted a smile. What was their journey like? What would they find in Mallory? Would Lucifer even still be there? When would he see him again?

Michael had promised "soon"; embraced him and spirited away with grace among the clouds. "Soon", he whispered into the night and stroked the blade with affection.

Placing his gift in a side pocket, he remembered the first time Michael had given him this; and caressed it fondly. He had been about ten years old – a tired, hungry little boy with need of love and guidance. Michael had given him that and much more. He had given him confidence, faith and a gift that would save them all.

And now it was his turn to leave Vega. He and Pete, side by side would travel out toward …..where he did not know. Help the small pockets of humanity between here and there – wherever there might be; and evict as many eight balls as he could along the way. It would be their mission to help heal this world and bind her back together.

Quietly Pete joined him on the balcony and stood shoulder to shoulder with him; his tire iron hanging loosely from the loop of his pants. Hair flying wildly about his face, eyes bright with anticipation – his enthusiasm so contagious that it had him smiling.

Looking to him now, Pete sported a grin as wide as an ocean; and knew the boy turned man before his very eyes over these many harrowing months, was chomping at the bit to head out on their journey; a journey that just might change the world. Tomorrow they would step away from Vega's borders to begin something new.

"Tomorrow", Pete murmured and set his sights out over the horizon.

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Thank you so much for reading. This chapter concludes 'Protect and Follow'. This has been a long journey and I would like to say thank you to those of you who stuck with this story and with me! Please leave a review and let me know what you thought of this.


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